


The Witch of Winterfell

by Bebismarie



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alive Starks, Dragons, F/M, Female Harry Potter, M/M, Slow Burn, direwolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-08-20 13:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bebismarie/pseuds/Bebismarie
Summary: Harriet Lily Potter finds herself at Winterfell after her duel with Voldemort. How would the great Game be played with a Witch at the Starks' side? Watch as Harriet finds a new family and a new life. Would she ever be able to go back to her world? Would she want to?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I am trying my hand at this writing thing. I love reading fanfics and I am amazed at people's creativity. Hopefully I don't suck! I really do hope you enjoy. Warning: This has no Beta, so excuse the bad grammar.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters from either work of art. J.K. Rowling an d George R. R. Martin do.

**Prologue**

Cold. It was all she could feel. It was something remarkably squishy, and icy cold. She couldn’t feel her body, it refused to move at her command. She was tired, so so tired. The fight has left her. Her eyes would not open, but maybe she didn’t want to see right now. Too many good people dead already: Tonks, Remus, Fred, Lavender, Collin…

 

There is a high pitched ring playing from inside her head. Beyond the ring there was no sound. Silence. It was odd that she could not hear anything. Maybe she was dead. Again. Although, Dumbledore isn't here yet.

 

_Wake up, darling._ A soothing voice whispered in the distance. It was familiar to her, but from where, she didn’t know. _Who are you_? I try to ask. The words stall in my throat. Water, I need water to clear it.

 

Scenes flash in her consciousness- getting back in to Hogwarts, hope spilling in the room full of her friends. Snape running away like a coward. No! Snape was a guardian. He tried to save me. Snape’s dead. Her heart clenched in her chest, leaving her breathless for a moment. I never got to thank him.

 

How much did I not know? How much did Dumbledore keep from me? He knew I was a horcrux. He wanted- no, he needed me dead. _“For the Greater Good”_

 

_Darling, it’s past time for you to get up._ That voice again.

 

Mom!

 

_Sweetheart if you don’t get up now, I fear you may never again. Wake up, you’ve been given another chance._

 

I push my body harder. This time I am able to open my eyes. I am in a woods, or forest of some sort. It’s a beautiful little meadow from what I can see. I’m laying on a dirt floor. There’s a large, sturdy tree sitting in the middle of the clearing, white with red leaves. The white body the same shade as the elder wand after I held it for the first time. Oddly there’s a face carved out of the center, the sap is red and appears to be weeping. The tree is pulsing. It feels like a heartbeat. Slowly, I reach my hand out to it, my strength is returning in small bursts. It beacons me.

 

My hand falls short, slowly I make to crawl. I feel like a newborn, struggling to rise. I am able to push up, but the move makes my head spin. My senses are overwhelmed. I can feel the cold dirt on my hands, I can smell the sweet moisture of a breeze from the pond, I can hear the gentle swaying of the wind skimming the water, and still the heartbeat of the tree thrums through my body. Goosebumps travel my body from the clench of my toes, to the rising hair on my neck.

 

Once again, I make for the tree. I know I just have to touch the tree, maybe if I do I can hear mom’s voice again.

 

As I touch the tree, there is a trembling through my body, the magic of the tree rushes over me, as if the water of the pond pours over me, it is warm and clean, and I feel refreshed. How you feel after a hot shower on a rainy day, like waking up in a warm bed surrounded by warm blankets on a snowy day, like drinking Remus’s hot chocolate after facing a dementor.

 

In the distance I hear a howl and the rushing of a powerful beast. Beyond that I hear a roar, like that of the Hungarian Horntail I defeated in the TriWizard Tournament.

 

“Who are you and what are you doing in the Godswood?” I hear behind me. I turn to see a handsome young man. He is a _handsome_ guy. He reminds me of Victor Krum a bit, athletic build, but with dark curly hair waving in the wind. Even from here I could see his eyes a piercing, grey steel.

 

I pulled my hand away from the tree, but that was a mistake, the tree gave me power and without it, my body swayed and my eyes closed.

 

What an odd dream _. I wonder who the boy was?_


	2. Jon Snow

Chapter 1

Jon 

 

“Maester Luwin! Maester Luwin!” I yell out, running from the godswood to the castle.

“Jon, what are you doing? Who is that?” Robb is keeping pace with me as I carry the lady to the Maester’s rooms. 

 

“I don’t know.” I shrug, as much as I could with the slight girl in my arms. She is tiny, but beautiful. He thought her the Maiden made flesh standing before the weirwood tree. For a brief moment he believed in the gods Lady Stark prayed to. 

 

Her pale skin would blend in with snows fallen in the North; her black curls, deep as the night sky, fall around her shoulders- Sansa would be horrified if her hair was ever this untamable. And yet, it was her eyes that lured him in the most. They were as green as the trees in the woods in the summer, as deep as the grassy hills around Winterfell, but when she stood holding the weirwood tree, he swore her eyes glowed. She even smelled beautiful. Something floral, not too strong, but subtle like a winter rose. 

 

Robb is laughing, I turn my head to him in amazement. What has he to be amused at? There was a maiden found in the godswood, who fainted and might be hurt. How could he find laughter in that? 

 

“Be at peace, brother. If I didn’t know your stance on women, I’d say you were half in love with her already. Nay, more than half. Where did you find her?” He laughs again. 

 

I feel my face warm. I turn from Robb’s bemused gaze. 

 

“I found her in the godswood. She was standing beside the heart tree. When I confronted her she fainted.” 

 

Robb laughs again, “See Snow, you do have the girls swooning for you. Must be all the brooding you do! She must be more than half in love with you too if she’s already swooning for you!” 

 

“Who’s swooning for Jon?” Arya demands, rushing to keep up to our long strides.

 

“His lady love!” Robb chortles. 

 

“Jon, why is there a girl in your arms?  _ Is _ she your lady love?” Arya inquires. “She’s stupid if she’s swooning over boys.” 

 

“Who’s swooning over boys?” Father steps in to view. Keeping pace with us. Arya launches herself in to his arms. Father catches her and holds her to his chest. 

 

“The stupid girl in Jon’s arms” Arya points to the lady I hold. Father raises his eyebrows, but his face hides his reactions. “Jon, I’ll be interested to hear how this lady swooned into your arms.” 

 

Father’s voice questions- demanding with just a touch of disappointment. 

 

“I found her in the godswood! I swear it, Father. I went down there to say my prayers and I found her by the heart tree. I must have startled her. She fainted when I confronted her. I’ve done nothing untoward, Father.” 

 

Father seems relieved at his words. “She’s still stupid if she swoons at seeing you.” Arya remarks. 

 

I glare when I hear Robb is laughing again. From the corner of my eye I see father smiles. He kisses Arya’s cheek and slides her down to the floor, pushing her towards the other side of the castle. 

 

“I left my solar to find you, child. Septa Mordane says you’ve been missing lessons again.” Father lets his disappointed voice speak, yet his eyes say he is amused. “You’re mother is going to ground you again and with the King coming soon, I’m positive that’ll mean you don’t get to watch the spars that are sure to be held in the training yard.” 

 

Arya pouts, “Septa Mordane is awful, Father. She says my stitches are horrible and I have blacksmith hands. She says I will never be a lady if I stay this horrible! I don’t understand what’s wrong with that, I don’t want to be a lady!” 

 

“Arya, your mother is in charge of your upbringing. You’d do well to listen to her. If she says you need to learn to stitch, then on your honor as a Stark, you must stitch. Go on. If you keep delaying your mother will take away your dessert.” Arya huffs and slowly stomps off. “I will never be a proper lady, I’d sooner run away and go live with the Wildlings!” 

 

“Just remember Arya,” Father starts, “even wildlings steal their ladies.” 

 

Arya grunts and huffs off. Father and Robb laugh as I shake my head. 

 

We arrive at Maester Luwin’s room. “Maester, I need your help. She’s fainted.” 

 

“Set her there on the table.” Robb clears the table for me as I set her down. Father pulls her hair out of her face. “Do you recognize her father? Does she look familiar?” 

 

“Nay. I’ll send a raven to the houses, maybe someone is missing their girl? I’ll send someone to Winter Town to see if there is anyone new missing a girl?” 

 

“Jon, did she hit her head when she fainted? Is she wounded?” 

 

“No, Maester. I didn’t see anything. She was standing in the Godswood when I confronted her. I startled her, but I do not understand why she fainted.” Maester Luwin starts to remove her outerwear. “Send me a serving girl. I need to undress her to see if she is hurt anywhere else. I don’t want the poor girl startling if it is just me in the room. Come back in a few hours, if I can’t find a reason for her condition I’ll have her set up in a room to see her recovered, with your permission Lord Stark.” 

 

“She does not look like a commoner, nor a high lady. She may stay to recover until we find out who she is and why she is here. Come sons, we will allow Maester Luwin to do his work without us hovering.” Father opens the door to leave. “I’ll send you a serving girl soon. Let me know if she awakes. I may send Cat down here to question the girl.” 

  
  
  


The next morning we find out the girl awoke late in the night, tossing in her bed screaming and crying. She had a fever and threw up a few times. Maester Luwin gave the girl milk of the poppy to aid her sleep. 

 

After breaking our fast, we make our way to the training yard. Robb, Theon and I are trying to teach Bran how to shoot an arrow. 

 

“Go on. Father’s watching.” I say.*

 

Bran turns around and looks up, his mother and father were watching from the landing above. Both have encouraging smiles on the faces, “and your mother,” I add. Bran gulps and nocks another arrow. He taunts the bow and releases the arrow. 

 

The shot misses, going over the targets. He starts laughing along with Robb and Theon. Bran buckles his body in on himself. 

 

“And which one of you was a marksman at 10?” Father scolds. “Go on.” Bran picks his bow up again. 

 

“Don’t think too much Bran,” I advise. 

 

“Relax your bow arm.” Robb adds.

 

Bran nocks his arrow again, taking aim at the target. I see him inhale. 

 

_ Thwack _ . A bulls-eye, the arrow comes from behind us. Arya is there smiling, she curtsies. 

Bran sees her and runs after her. Robb and I laugh, and Father and Lady Stark join in. Robb and I clean up. Someone stares at me as I put the arrows up. I look up and see Lady Stark standing alone staring at me. I look away first and return to my clean up. 

 

Theon calls for Robb and I. 

 

“Your father says to saddle the horses. We are leaving.” 

 

“Where are we going?” Robb asks. 

 

“A deserted of the Night’s Watch was found. Your father is to deliver justice.” Theon shares gleefully.

 

Bran walks back to us out of breath from chasing Arya. “Bran, you’re coming with us.” 

 

“Where are we going?” 

 

“Your father is going to execute a man.” 

 

When our party is ready, we ride to the deserter. He is muttering about being a coward and seeing White Walkers. Father doesn’t believe him, but he nods. 

 

“Don’t look away. Father will know if you do.” Bran doesn’t move. 

 

“You did well.” I praise. We load up the horses to make our way back to Winterfell. 

 

On our way back we hear a howl. The party tenses up. The animal is close. 

 

“We ride,” Father says. He urges his horse on, going as fast as he dare in the forest. 

 

We hear the howl again much closer than before. Up ahead a stag races away from something. The animal trips and falls to the ground with a whine of terror. He rights himself and flees once more. 

 

“There!” One of the guards points to a blur between the trees. The creature is going too fast for us to make it out. It is large, I guess. The pounding of the feet against the forest floor is loud and trembles from where we are at. 

 

“Ready your weapons.” Father shouts. 

 

Theon grabs his crossbow and loads it. Father, Robb and I unsheathed our swords, some of the men have bows and arrows notched. I box Bran in betwixt Robb and I, Father in front of him. The gates of Winterfell open at our arrival. 

 

“Close the gates!” Father yells at the guards once we are inside, but he is too late to give the command. The beast is within the walls. Screams are heard from the servants around us. 

 

“Bran stay back, the rest of you with me. We must take down the beast!” 

 

We ride, following the screams. 

 

I feel something strange pass over me. A warmth that settles deep within my bones. It is refreshing like sitting besides the fire after a hunt in the snow, or like Arya’s hugs after our sword lessons, or like eating one of the Kidney pies Old Nan makes with the peas and the onions after… well, anytime.

 

“It’s heading toward the Godswood!” I yell. Something was calling it there. Maybe the Old Gods. I just knew I needed to get there. 

 

“Good, we can trap it within.” Father says. 

 

“AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!” 

 

“Sansa!” Father screams. He jumps off his horse and runs in to the Godswood. Robb and I close behind him. 

 

Father abruptly stops, I have to run to the side to avoid colliding with him. Using a tree to stop my momentum. A dull ache throbs in my shoulder, I may have a bruise later. Father is just standing there staring within. 

 

I fill with dread, maybe it was too late for Sansa. I hesitantly step toward father, Robb and I share a look, at the same time we peak around father’s shoulders.

 

There by the heart tree stands the beautiful stranger. This time there is no mistaking the bright glow in her eyes, green and then a flash of warm amber, molten gold,  and then back to the green of spring. One hand is gripping the face of the heart tree, the other is holding her palm up to not one, but two large wolves. One as black as her hair, the other as white as her skin. 

 

“Direwolves.” Father breathes softly below his breath. 

 

Sansa, is there too, shaking behind the stranger. Arya is trying to get closer to the beasts, but Lady Stark is holding her back. 

 

The black direwolf licks the stranger’s hand, as if greeting an old friend. 

 

“Padfoot.” She has tears, streaming down her face, but it does not diminish her beauty. The direwolf barks happily and licks her face. He does so happily, well as happily as a large terrifying beast can. Something within me tells me that this is what he is doing. The other wolf groans and lays to her side. The beautiful stranger turns her attention to her. The black wolf is a male, the white one female, I just know. 

 

Padfoot whines and turns to the white wolf, he comes over and softly nudges her snout and licks it. He turns to the stranger and whines again. 

 

The stranger moves closer. 

 

“Stay away from the beast!” Father yells, rushing forward with his sword drawn. I’m half a second behind him. He makes to swing for the white wolf. 

 

“NO!” Both myself and the stranger yell. I move to parry father’s strike and the stranger holds her arm up as if to push him away. Padfoot growls and lowers his body to the ground ready to attack, before he can father flies back. 

 

I turn to the stranger, then back to father. 

 

“JON!” Robb yells. Moving to strike me. 

 

“Robb stop,” Father groans. Lady Stark rushes over to him. “Jon never touched me. He didn’t get anywhere near me. Father turns to the stranger. 

 

“Who are you? And what did you just do to me?” 

 

The stranger is on her knees next to the white wolf, rubbing her belly making soothing noises. Padfoot is still crouched, no longer growling, but watching. 

 

“My name is Harriet Potter, and this grim is about to have puppies! Anyone know a good vet around here? I’ve never delivered puppies before!” 


	3. Harriet

**Chapter 2**

 

Harriet

 

I was dreaming. All these nightmares I have been having have already come to pass. I live all the murders on repeat: There is the old man from Riddle Manor, the ministry lady that worked with… with crouch, the girl I shared a room with. The boy with the bright red hair, there were two of him, the boy with the camera, the man in all black in the dungeons, the old man with the really long beard and half-glasses … _Merlin, Why can’t I remember their names?_ I sure do remember how they died. The snake did a lot of the killing.

 

Mostly, it’s the screaming, and the burning I remember the most, though. There was the girl with the big,  bushy hair, her screams far off while I was in the dark. The hear screams from a campground, some people on fire and the skull and snake in the sky. I feel sick. All the smells and the pace of the memories blasting by. My head was throbbing.

 

Some of the dreams weren’t real. At least, they didn’t feel real. There  was the bushy haired girl again- a strange animal man attacking her, biting her neck again and again. Her blood is splashing everywhere, even on my hands.

 

Another boy with red hair, the youngest, I think- someone had ripped his head off his body, but with critters crawling out of his hollow body. His head was speaking, “ _It’s all your bloody fault. If he would’ve killed you from the start none of this would be happening to us_.”

 

“I’m sorry,” I cry, “I don’t know how to help you.”

 

The old man with the half-glasses shows up, his hand is starting to rot, but once the rot reaches the bone, the skin turns to ashes-they float away from the rest of the body and they begin to burn in the sky. “ _The Greater Good would have been better off without you. Some savior you are!”_

 

My world goes blank. The silence is a god-send. The dull throbbing of my head seems to be easing a bit.

 

In the back of my mind, however, I hear a voice. Low and soft, gentle and sweet, singing a soft song. A flash of red enters my vision, but it  is gone as fast as it enters. The voice, however, seemingly grows louder, like my soul is walking toward the sweet music.

 

_“_ _They didn't have you where I come from*_

_Never knew the best was yet to come_

_Life began when I saw your face_

_And I hear your laugh like a serenade”_

 

“Hello?” I don’t understand how someone is here with me. I am conscious enough to know I’m not physically present. This dream is weird, in a good way. I like this song, I think I’ve heard it before.

 

_How long do you wanna be loved_

_Is forever enough, is forever enough_

_How long do you wanna be loved_

_Is forever enough_

 

There are other voices now, but they seem so far away, in the opposite direction of the soft voice. They seem farther and closer, speaking near my ear and not near my conscious brain.

 

“Turn her body, she mustn’t choke on her own sick!”

 

“Master, she’s burning up! She’s shivering so much.”

 

Master? A house elf? A female one. Winky, maybe? No, there’s too much life in this voice. Winky was somber after the Crouches died. Who, then?

 

_'Cause I'm never, never giving you up_

_I slip in bed when you're asleep_

_To hold you close and feel your breath on me_

_Tomorrow there'll be so much to do_

_So tonight I'll drift in a dream with you_

 

“We need the body to cool. Take the blankets off and open the windows. The fresh air will do some good, I think.”

 

I try to tune the voices out, they may die if someone tries to help me. The snake man is always listening. I turn back to the sweet voice.

_How long do you wanna be loved_

_Is forever enough, is forever enough_

_How long do you wanna be loved_

_Is forever enough_

 

The flash of red comes back to my conscious, but with it texture. It is a red river, soft and flowing, easing down a smooth, white bank. Yellow is glowinging in the background, with the glow is a blistering heat but there is a breeze next to the river cooling my heated skin.

 

_'Cause I'm never, never giving you up_

_As you wander through this troubled world_

_In search of all things beautiful_

_You can close your eyes when you're miles away_

_And hear my voice like a serenade_

 

“She’s stopped shivering, master,” the house elf calls out.

“Aye, if she keep the fever down, she should wake in the morning. I’ll be letting Lord Stark know. For now, I’ll give her Milk of the poppy to help ease her sleep.”

 

_How long do you wanna be loved_

_Is forever enough, is forever enough*_

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_“Sweetheart, it’s time wake up! You need to wake up, destiny is a fickle mistress and waits for no one.”_ There’s that voice again. I know it from somewhere. _Maybe another dream?_

 

“ _It’s me child, I need you to wake up”_ She is gentle and calming. It soothes me to the core. A warmth radiates deep inside spreading through my veins with the flow of blood. The hair on my arms raise at the swift change in temperature.

 

“Mom?”

 

“ _Yes love, wake up.”_ I open my eyes and see the person before me.

 

She is so beautiful.

 

Her red hair is on fire with the sun rising behind her. It’s just past dawn. The sun is still making it was across the fields. I squint, it’s so bright here. I close my eyes again, just basking in this place. I can feel the heat of the sun on my face, I can feel a breeze caressing my bare skin, cool from the lake off in the distance. I can smell ripened strawberries. Remus always said she smelled like Strawberries and sunshine.

 

She is stroking her fingers through my hair, her nails softly scratching the top of my head. It feels relaxing.

 

She laughs, “Harriet, you need to wake up now. Open your eyes for me, please?”

 

“I’m awake” I laze. Just hearing her voice brings the tears close. “If I open my eyes, I’m afraid you’ll be gone.”

 

“I’m here, sweet love. Open your eyes.”

 

Against my better judgement I open them. She’s still here.

 

“MOM!” I sit up and throw myself in her arms.

 

“Mom.” I cry again. The tears slope down my face. She holds me until I calm down. It’s just us embracing- two souls mending and fixing the other. I pull away from her warm embrace, warmer than even the sun.

 

“Am I dead?” I look around, it’s a beautiful place, if this were heaven, I would happily stay here. “Where’s dad? And Sirius? Remus, Tonks, Fred, Collin…?” I turn my head waiting to see if anyone would pop out. It would be like the marauders to play a prank on me at the entrance to the afterlife.

 

“They’re not here, darling. It’s not your time yet.” I snap my head to her. I don’t like the heavy feeling deep in my belly. Her gaze is a bit sorrowful.

 

She lifts her hand to caress my face. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but you’re not coming to me yet. I’m here to relay a message. Death is very pleased right now. So pleased, in fact, that he is allowing you to live.”

 

She smiles at me. I get to live. I’ve never been more conflicted in my life.

 

“I don’t want to live.  I want to stay here with you. We can finally be a family! You and daddy will be there, and Padfoot and Moony and even some of my friends. We’ll be happy and together! I don’t want to live! I just want to be with you.” My voice shatters, I’m hysterical and I can feel the panic creeping up my throat, the acid is crawling up right along with it. I swallow the bitter taste down, with my dream of being with my parents. All I ever wanted was a family. _MY_ family.

 

My heart is clenching and releasing in a painful rhythm “Why can’t I just be with you? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me with you?” I’m ugly crying now- with the big lustrous tears, red complexion, and snot running down my nose.

 

Mom pulls me into another hug, trying to soothe me. She strokes the tips of my hair and down my back. Her attempt to calm me doesn’t work. I want to stay angry with her.

 

“Do not doubt that your father or I don’t want you with us. We do. We truly do, but we also want you to live. We fought and protected you as much as we could. We died so that you could live. We did not get that, and we don’t want that for you.”

 

Mom cups my cheeks in her palms, using her thumbs to brush away my tears. “I love you,” she kisses the middle of my forehead, “Your father loves you. Moony and Sirius love you. We all do, but we didn’t die just to have you die with us.”

 

Mom pulls my head toward her. She lowers her lips to my forehead for another kiss. She pulls me into another embrace. “I love you so much, I want you to live and find love, and happiness.  Seek peace, find a cute boy, but don’t make me a grandmother too soon. You _are_ only seventeen.”

 

I laugh low and guttural through my tears. It is bitter and disbelieving “I’m the girl-who-lived, mom. Who knows who will love me for me and not my name and fame?”

 

Mom frowns, “Sweetheart,” she grabs my hand and holds in one of hers. She uses the other hand to push the hair back from my face. “There are rules with the deities. You weren’t supposed to live. You cheated death with the last horcrux.” She sweeps my hair aside, tapping the scar above my eyebrow.  “You both were fated to die that day. Your body was shattered, but your soul didn’t go to death. It stayed where it was”

 

I cringe back, “What does that mean for me? Do I stay here? If you leave I’ll be all alone. Does it mean I can’t stay in London?”

 

“Sweetheart, the world that you knew is not a place you can get back to. I’m not saying that you can’t, only that it’s nearly impossible and requires a large sacrifice. The deities won’t like it. Death had to chose you. You brought the Hallows together. You weren’t meant to, Dumbledore was supposed to destroy the stone and the wand after he killed Riddle. It was never supposed to be you.” Mom flips my right arm over and traces a pattern over the skin of my lower arm. I look down and notice the symbol. It’s the deathly hallows.

 

“Darling, Tom Riddle was someone who tried evading death, but you were able to defeat him. In order for you to live again, you must do something for Death. Even if he was forced to pick you. Think of it as a second chance. There is a man in this new world called the Night King. Death is asking you to bring him to face eternal rest. The Night King was said to be cursed with eternal life. Death is asking for his soul.”

 

“But magic this drastic comes at a price. Defeat the Night King and you’ll live. If you don’t, this world dies and maybe you won’t ever know if you could go back to the world you were born to. Maybe that world gets destroyed too.”

 

I sob. Will I never see Hermione or Ron again? The poor Weasley’s lost Fred, could they lose me too? What about Teddy? How will he cope without me? He is too young to remember me, but  I was entrusted to be his Godmother. Will Remus and Tonks think I am running away?

 

Mom embraces me again, “You won’t be alone in this new world. You may not have all the same people from before, but there are some that you will find in this new world to guide you along. My sweet child, I have to go now.”

 

“No… you keep saying, new world. Where is it? Will you be with me? You can’t leave me! Stay. Stay with me!” I reach to hold her tighter.

 

“Please?” I whisper. “Please stay.” Mother glances at me with pity, she pulls me in her arms and kisses my forehead again.

 

“It is time for you to wake up, love. You have a new family that is relying on you.” The beautiful fields we were in are are darkening at a dizzying speed. Mom’s touch becomes lighter. “I love you, darling. _Wake up.”_

 

_Wake up, Stupid._ That wasn’t mom’s voice.

 

_Arya!_ Another voice scolds.

 

_What? It’s not like she can hear me, she’s practically dead._

 

“Yes I can.” I croak out.

 

Gasps can be heard to the side of where I’m laying. I reach out with my senses. I hear something crackling. A fire maybe? Explains why I’m so warm. That or the extremely soft and comfortable blanket I’m wrapped in. The bed is soft too. Like I’m sleeping in a pile of clean feathers. I scoot down a bit and revel in the warmth.

 

I open my eyes and see a handful of people in my room.

 

I raise my eyebrows, “Who are you and what are you doing in my room?” I take a look around the room. The occupants are wearing victorian style dresses, but really plain, not at all like the intricate velvet and lace of the dresses from Victorian England.

 

“Where am I?”

 

“You are in Winterfell, young lady. And I am Catelyn Stark of House Stark, these are my daughters Sansa, “ here she gestured to the pale, auburn haired girl, with river blue eyes, that looked like a younger version of her perhaps from 20 years ago “and Arya.” The other girl was petite with dark brown hair and odd silver-colored eyes. A quintessential tomboy.

 

I looked around the room and notice a couple others. I wait to be introduced to them. The lady and her daughters stare at me and I stare back. I look to the others again and back to the family.

 

“And what about everyone else?” I ask. They look confused.

 

I reach out and grab a girls’ arm as she was passing by me, linens in her arms. “And who might you be?” I ask. The girl looks startled that I am talking with her. She stutters out, “I am Lyla, my lady.” The girl curtsies and continues on. “It’s lovely meeting you.” I say.

 

I turn back to the ladies, they are all agog. “What?” I ask confused.

 

“They are just servants. There was no need for introductions,” Lady Catelyn says.

 

I look at her in disbelief. “Well, that just seems a bit rude.” Lady Catelyn and her mini clone look deeply offended. The younger girl laughs.

 

“I’m sorry where I come from it’s rude to ignore people.”

 

“Where are you from?” Arya asks

 

“Far away from here, “ I look off into the distance.

 

“Are you a wildling?” she persists.

 

“Arya!” Mini-Me sounds offended.

 

“No…? What’s a wildling?”

 

The young girl gasps, “ you don’t know what a wildling is? They’re savages north of the wall. The usually come in to our territory and steal from our farms and bed the ladies against their will. Father has them killed if they're caught. Although, he won't let me see it. It's not fair that only the boys are allowed to go to the executions.”

 

“Arya!” Lady Catelyn is outraged.  She turns to me, “I’m sorry, allow me to apologize for my youngest, she is very excitable at times. I wanted to make sure you were alright. I’ll send for Maester Luwin and for some food to be sent up. After you see the maester, I imagine you’ll want a bath. We will come by for tea later this afternoon if you’re up for it.”

 

“I would like that, thank you.” Lady Catelyn nods and shuffles her daughters out and closes the door behind her.

 

“Come girls, we must let our guest rest.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that afternoon, Maester Luwin clears me to leave the room. He tells me to rest and not go for long strolls around the castle, otherwise I was recovering just fine. He calls for a servant to deliver some soup.

 

At this point I just wanted some answers on why I was here. Mother said I was needed here to defeat a Night King. Who was he? Where was he now?

 

The servant girl from earlier, Lyla, helps me to dress. It’s a bit embarrassing having her dress me. “Do you really have to be here for this? I can dress myself.”

 

“Yes, mi’lady.” She curtsies, “‘Tis my duty ma’am. ‘Tis some of Sansa’s old clothing, I have. It would be difficult to put it on without help.” She circles me, “you are but a slight thing and she is tall, good hips for babies. You are slim- no fat on you anywhere. Maybe dangerous for you to carry a babe.”

 

I stare at her a moment. _Right, medieval times. Women are for seeing, and being pretty and making babies. This is gonna suck._

 

“Righttttttt….” I draw out. She finishes dressing me and hands me a pair of boots. I slip them on, they were surprisingly soft, and comfortable.

 

“Mi’lady, your clothes were ruined. We threw them out. Lady Stark has allowed you the clothing that no longer fits Sansa, usually it is taken to Winter Town and distributed amongst the poor, but the Lady allowed for some to come here for you, seeing as you came with nothing but that bag. Falling to pieces that one, we might have to find one laying around somewhere.”

 

I don’t remember having a bag.

 

“This one mi’lady.” She points to the side, where a small desk sits against the wall. The colorful bag lay atop it. I blink at her. I didn’t realize I had said that out loud.

 

“Hermione’s purse.” I breath out in a whisper. A flash flickered behind my eyes, she was the tall girl with the bushy hair. Something squeezes inside my chest. My dear friend. I grab the her purse, stroking the outside. _Dear Hermione, how I wish you were here with me._

 

I open it up and peak inside. I see many things, a trunk for one, a tent,  a coin pouch- _I wonder just how much is in there…_ \- a few jewels, which I can probably sell for some extra money, and a charm bracelet. I reach in the purse and grab the bracelet.

 

_I don’t remember this._ There’s a faint musical chime attached to the bracelet. I clasp the bracelet around my wrist. The bracelet has a number of different charms and I finger each one in turn: a broom, a stone, a birdbath, a skeletal dragon, a few different colored eggs, a tent, what looks to be like a townhouse, a wand…

 

A wand!

 

_Would I even be able to do magic here?_ The wand an exact replica of the holly and phoenix feather one I knew once.  The small charm vibrated, rubbing against the other charms.

 

“What are you going to be doing now, miss? Where is your home? Will your family be missing you? How did you end up here?” Lyla interrupts.

 

I turn to Lyla, “I don’t know. One minute I’m fighting a war. I remember I was defeated, but I think I killed him, too. I hope I did. My friends would have done everything they could to stop him. After the last sp- shot, I closed my eyes, dying and the next thing I know, I’m in a beautiful meadow with a weird tree. White, with deep red leaves with a face carved in to it crying red tears. The tree, I could’ve sworn it was calling to me.”

 

Lyla nods in thought. “Twas the old gods. Here in the North, we follow the old gods. Our ways are the old ways. The old gods listen using the Heart Trees. It was the old gods that call to you, I would bet my new fur shawl.” She wholeheartedly believed the words she was speaking.

 

_Maybe magic wasn’t as taboo here_.

 

I finger the wand on the charm bracelet. _If only I could use you_ . I gasp when a flash of white streaks across my view. The wand is now in my hand and the charm no longer on the bracelet. It is my wand from Ollivander’s. There was a subtle warmth that flowed through me when I grasp the wood. The exact same feeling I had when I first found the one. “ _The wand chooses the wizard”_ Olivander said to me seven years ago.

 

I wonder what else I can use on the bracelet. I unclasp it from my wrist and toss it back in to the purse. Better keep all the charms inside until I could figure out if they were usable or just charms. No need for losing anything that can help me here.

 

I grip my wand and concentrate on the very tip. “Lumos,” I breath waiting for the light to glow.

 

Nothing happens.

 

“Lumos,” I say determined. I was just sick. Maybe I’m just magically exhausted. I did battle Voldemort a few days ago and had that strange dream with mom.

 

But still nothing happens.

 

“My lady, are you alright? Why do you have a stick in your hand? Who is Lommy?”

 

“Lumos!” I yell just a bit, ignoring Lyla.

 

A small spark sets off on the wand, but nothing more. It seems my magic is weak here. I will have to train to make it stronger.

 

I turn around and notice Lyla is looking at me strange, the same look one would use when meeting Luna for the first time. Another flash of a girl across my vision a slight girl with long, curly blonde hair and the radish earrings hanging from her lobs. Oh Luna, you would have such an adventure here with me.

 

“Mi’lady, you said the tree called to you. Maybe your stick will work there. You’ll pardon me my ignorance, but I know not why you want to light the branch when we have perfectly good torches around. If you don’t mind me saying, it is daylight and even now you don’t need one. All the same miss, maybe the tree will speak to you again.” Lyla picks up the tray with my bowl from my lunch and walks out the door.

 

“How do I get back to the tree?” I ask her.

 

“What tree?” a young voice demands, barging in to my room without knocking. Arya, I think, is her name.

 

“The young miss was asking about the Heart tree. Says it was calling to her. Far be it for me to question the gods, I’m just a servant” Lyla answers, “If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to do.” Lyla curtsies to us and leaves the room.

 

“What do you want with the godswood? Only my family goes in there.”

 

“It was like Lyla said, the tree, it called to me. I need to go back, I need to seek answers.”

 

She stares at me, it’s a bit unnerving. It’s the same look Lavender and Parvati gave me when I asked what the big deal with Gilderoy Lockhart was- incredulous with a bit of a sneer, not unlike McGonagall’s disproving mien. The gaze was assessing me from deep within.

 

I stared back at her. After looking Voldemort down, an 11-year old child was nothing. I raise a brow at her scrutiny.

 

“Come on, I’ll take you there.” She grabs my hand and pulls me out of the room. I scramble to grab Hermione’s purse on the way out. I throw my wand in the purse and hurry along with Arya

 

She leads me down a hall, into another wing, down some corridors and stairs. I’m afraid I will never find my way back again. This place is huge. Then again, maybe that was the plan.

 

Arya is rushing us outside, “hurry before they realize I’m gone. If they ask, I was with you this whole time.”

 

“Before who realizes you’re gone? Who are you hiding from?”

 

“Septa Mordane, she’s the most horrid creature you will ever know.” Arya’s little body shudders. “I hope you never have to meet her.”

 

“ARYA STARK! YOUR FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!” The nun yells from across the hall. I pale in horror, her shrieking is an exact replica of Aunt Petunia’s. Poor girl, at least Petunia never shouted in front of people, she didn’t want the neighbors to talk. I shudder, for the first time since I arrived, I am grateful to be worlds away from her.

 

Arya breaks out in to a full tilt run. Dragging me along. For a slight thing, she sure is strong. We reach the meadow, huffing and panting.

 

I bend over, my hands on my knees, head lowered trying to regain my breath, swaying a bit. I am still weak, and probably should not have run. Master Luwin did say to take it easy

 

“Are you okay?” Arya looks slightly concerned.

 

“Fine. Just need some water and somewhere to sit down before I keel over. I need to get to the tree though. There’s a bench there, help me to it, please?”

 

Arya reaches around my waist to hold me up. For someone so you and small, she had a strength to her hold. Slowly we make our way to the tree. She makes for the bench, but I turn toward the tree. “There’s a bit of an indent among the roots. Drop me there.”

 

She  turns to help me into the indent. I groan as I fall down, gracelessly.  

 

Once settled among the roots, I turn to the tree. It’s pulsing again, but this time I can sense a small vibration. I reach my hand out to the tree, slowly, I lay my palm flat against the trunk, my hand on the cheek of the crying face.

 

The same warmth as the first time I touched it, flushes through my body, renewing my strength. The magic pulses around me like it’s a heartbeat and the tree the body.

 

I hear a gasp beside me, “Your mark is glowing.”

 

I open my eyes and sense the magic flowing around me, I look down and see the symbol etched into my skin come alive, it is glowing a muted red, the same red dripping down the tree, the same red, as the leaves falling to the ground.

 

I stand and I hear a few growls, there’s more than one this time, and they are close by, I can feel the powerful roar of a dragon, but again it is muted and distant. Several images flash in front of me. A man with white strips of hair on the side of his head gives a vial to harried looking woman, a flash and she pours a few drops of liquid in a older man’s drink.

 

Another flash, a young boy pushed from a tower. Flash, he’s laying in a bed unmoving, Lady Catelyn crying alongside him. Flash, along a dirt road a caravan of wagons, a beautiful woman demands a coat made out of the fur of a grim. Flash, a middle aged man, who looks a lot like an older version of the handsome stranger I ran in to here at this tree. He has the same dark colored hair and gray eyes- the same as Arya, in fact- from earlier in the meadow, he has slain a grim cradled in his arms, he’s disgusted. Flash, in the same caravan, a man with a dog helmet kills a young boy. Flash, A fat man in the forest get impaled by a boar.

 

Flash, the dark haired man who killed the grim gets stabbed in the calf by a man in armor. Flash, he is in a dark jail of some sorts, a bald man is over him speaking. Flash, The man is now on a chopping block, he looks out in front of the crowd and see Arya. Her father, I assume, another man turns her head away before she could see the execution. Sansa is there too. Someone drags her off.

 

Flash, A beautiful, young girl that looks a lot  like Luna is standing before a man that has the same coloring as her, he grazes her nipples, his eyes have a bit of madness and cruelty in them. Flash, the Luna look-alike is bent over a rock, a man much older than her taking her from behind. _No not Luna! I’m so sorry my sweet friend._

 

The blur faster, I see a pyre with a man burning, the same one that was bent over Luna, he has large ostrich eggs on top of his body. Flash, Luna emerges naked with three dragons crawling over her. Flash, her dragons burn everything, city after city, man after man, and castles too. Nothing is left standing.

 

Flash, Sansa is looking at her father’s head on a spike, she is then beaten by some man in armor as a different young and cruel boy with a crown watches in glee. Flash, she is in an audience room of some sort on the floor holding up her ripped dress as the men in armor beat her again. Flash, the cruel boy dies in front of her, he might have had a severe allergic reaction to something, his face was purple and red and it was a gruesome sight. Someone grabs her arm and they flee. Flash, she is with a young boy and the man with the streaks of white along his temples. Flash, she is in a beautiful white dress, bent over a bed with a man behind her, a wildly mad look in his pale blue eyes. He also has a mad look to his face.

 

_Is this to be the fate of all women, to be raped into submission by mad men. If I see them, they better run cowering. I will not be made to bend over for any of them._

 

Flash, A large church looking building goes up in flames. Flash Winterfell is on fire. Flash, Lady Catelyn is in a castle with a young man, her son, if the coloring is true. Many bodies strewn about, her son bleeding, trying to make it to a pregnant girl. Flash, Lady Catelyn’s throat is slit from a man behind her. Flash another grim is slain. Flash, the head of the grim is sewed on to a body.

 

Flash after flash, they go run until finally, they slow. My handsome stranger is there with a white grim, he opens the door the grim is scratching at, a man with pale blue eyes and an undead look in his eyes. _Zombies!_ He slays the dead (maybe he’s just possessed, or a vampire) man. Another older man enters the room, the zombie wakes and stands again, my handsome stranger grabs the lantern out of the old man’s hands and throws it at the zombie. They flee the room. Flash, my stranger is next to a large ice wall, even in the visions I can feel it’s power pulsating throughout the ice. I see him holding a strong woman with red hair in his arms, crying over her.

 

A flare of jealousy bubble in my abdomen. He is handsome, but he is a distraction. I can’t afford any distractions. When I defeat the Night King, I will start researching how to get back to Hogwarts. Until then I’ll just have to live the life I can. I shake it off the odd feeling and concentrate on the images.

 

A flash, the handsome stranger is surrounded by men in black, one by one they stab him. He falls to his knees and a young boy stabs him last, straight through the heart. _Bastard!_ He falls back to the snow, his eyes open, but unseeing. Flash the white grim with the red eyes remains by my stranger’s body. Keeping vigil and waiting for his master to awaken.

 

_This is why I need you here. This family is meant to rule, but they are surrounded by enemies._ The voice is gravely and old. He whispers but, the words are power and strike through my body.

 

“Who are you?” I wonder.

 

_You know who I am, Master. Kill the Night King, and we will be free. I grow weak as he stays alive. The balance is weak, winter comes, and with it the Darkness. Beware your enemies, for they will be plenty._

 

“How will know who to trust?”

 

_Listen to the magic around you, I have given you tools in this new world, use them. I will send you some loyal friends to help out. Here comes one now. He is different than you remember, but he is still inside. He will not change, for I cannot bring the dead back in to being. I can, however, copy his soul. He will know you and you him._

 

_Change the course of this World’s history and we will be free. Do not allow any of these moments to come to pass. Open your eyes, child. See the world around you. Here._

 

I open my eyes and see Lady Catelyn, Sansa and Arya staring at me. Lady Catelyn is horrified, Sansa is afraid, clutching her mother’s sleeve and Arya looks alive, bouncing in place. I reach out with my magic and feel a hum from the two girls, but nothing from Lady Catelyn. Magic lies in the girls, dormant, but there. I can feel their very core.  

 

There is a howl at the edge of the meadow. I turn to face the sound, my hand is holding my body up against the tree. My lower arm burns, I move my opposite hand to clutch my arm, but I notice something in my palm. In my left hand is the elder wand. It is pulsing with the same energy as the tree.

 

“Lumos,” I try.

 

A bright glow emits from the wand, swathing the entire meadow in a bright, white light. Power radiating through the light from the spell.

 

“NOX!” I yell panicked. “Nox, nox, nox…”

 

The light dims and diminishes, hurried in its departure.

 

A low whine comes from the edge again, I look up to see a large and dark beast emerge from the tree line.

 

“AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!” I hear scream from behind me. I ignore the yell, because I recognize the large beast before me. Slowly we make our way toward each other, his large paws slap against the ground with power. His body is lowered cautiously coming forward. His eyes meet mine, I freeze and look into eyes that are so familiar. He comes closer to me and sniffs my hand. Slowly, his tail starts to wag in happiness. His tongue reaches out to lick my palm.

 

“Padfoot.” The ugly tears reappear. They stroll down my face sloppily. The grim barks happily and licks my face. He does so in a continuous rhythm. He is larger than his form from before. This body towers over me. I acknowledge I am short in this world too.

 

_You couldn’t have made me a bit taller, Death?_ A whispery chuckle floats on the wind.

 

Another grim groans and lays on her side near Padfoot. She is as white as the tree, beside me, more akin to a husky than a grim. She is a gorgeous animal. Padfoot whines and turns to her, he pads over and softly nudges her snout and licks it. He turns back to me and whines again. I move closer to her.

 

“Stay away from the beast!” A gruff man yells, rushing forward with his sword drawn. He is the man from the flashes, the one who kills the grim. He moves to strike the animals.

 

“NO!” Both myself and the handsome stranger yell. My stranger moves to parry the man’s strike, but my instincts are still on high alert, I hold my arm up, palm up to banish him. Padfoot growls and lowers his body to the ground ready to attack, but before he can the man flies back.

 

“Father!” the girls scream.

 

The stranger looks to me, then back to the man.  

 

There is a low whine from the white grim, I kneel next to her trying to soothe her anxiousness. It is then I realized she is pregnant. I turn to Padfoot, “You old dog,” I tease. “A father already, daddy and Moony would be proud of you settling down.” Padfoot sits next to the white grim. He sits tall and with his chest puffed out, proud of himself.

 

“JON!” Another young man yells, I look up and see the same man who crawled to the pregnant woman, the one Lady Catelyn tried to save. He rushes toward my stranger, poised to attack. I grasp the elder wand in my hand, ready to strike if anyone tries to attack the grims.

 

“Robb stop,” the man groans from the floor. Lady Catelyn rushes over to him. “Jon never touched me. He didn’t get anywhere near me.”  

 

The man stands and turns to face me, getting in front of both young men, “Who are you? And what did you just do to me?”

 

I am on my knees next to the white wolf, still rubbing her belly making soothing noises.

 

Padfoot has already turned back toward the strangers, he was no longer growling, but he was watching, waiting for another attack.

 

“My name is Harriet Potter, and this grim is about to have puppies! Anyone know a good vet around here? I’ve never had to deliver puppies before!”

  
  


 

 

*Song “Lullaby” by Dixie Chicks. The song came out in 2006, but I’m gonna say earlier just so Lily can sing it to Harriet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please feel free to let me know how I'm doing. Can't get better if I don't know what's wrong and would could be fixed. Please no flames though. Thanks again!


	4. Eddard Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned contemplates his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long delay in updates! I ended up getting really sick, first a really bad allergy attack-which ended up in an asthma fit. Then Thanksgiving was upon us (and Black Friday shopping! And Cyber Monday...), but then I never recovered from the allergy attack and ended up with a sinus cold and now the flu. I've spent all my free time recovering, but I'm here now. Sorry it took so long! I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> I am looking for a Beta if anyone is interested or knows someone. I'd love to brainstorm ideas back and forth. 
> 
> Thanks again!

Chapter 3 

Eddard Stark

 

The Old Gods were playing games with me, I am sure of it. Crazy rantings of White Walkers, Direwolves south of the wall, Robert coming to Winterfell with the entire court from King’s Landing. What’s next? Are the Children of the Forest going to be emerging from the pond?  

 

I eye the pond wondering if the gods would be so mischievous. I shake my head,  _ Madness.  _ I was sat on the bench in front of the heart tree. In my hands is Ice, I am cleaning the ancestral blade of House Stark, wondering how this was to be my lot. This blade, this life was all meant to be Brandon’s and yet here I sit, all of this mine. 

 

A soft snuff comes from the beast to my left. The white direwolf is trying to find a comfortable spot under the tree.“What a beauty you are. I don’t deserve the honor of your companionship, but I will try to be the man worthy of your being.  But what shall we call you, hmm? I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve the right.” I pat the massive animal on the head. Her pelt was a downy white, soft to the touch, and pure white as the snow that falls in winter. She licks my hand, in what I suspect is trust. I can sense her emotions. Wargs were said to run in the Flints and the Starks, maybe I have but a taste of the gift. 

 

“With a pelt this white, is there anything that isn’t obvious? Cloud? You are too fearsome to be called something light and fluffy.” She growls teasingly. 

 

“You are incredibly intelligent.” She puffs at the compliment. “Bones? Maybe. For woe be the man that makes you angry, their bones will lie at your paws as chew toys..” She pulls her mouth back in a low growl, Showing of her frightening teeth. “I wonder if I would scare my lords of the North with that name. Even Bolton wouldn’t dare to cross me.” I let out a low chuckle. 

 

I set the large blade down beside me. The beast lays low on the ground, her large head laying across my lap.

 

“You clearly are no help.” She perks her ears up and gives me a look, I shudder a bit at the displeasure in her eyes. I scratch her head behind the ears,  “I can’t name you ghost, Jon has already laid claim to that name.” 

 

“What to name you?”

 

“White wolf is almost as bad as calling you shaggy dog.” She huffs out a breath through her nose. Her head turning away in displeasure. 

 

“Fang.” A voice calls from the edge of the godswood. I turn and notice the slight man who sneaked his way into the godswood. I am very much pleased to see him. 

 

“Howland Reed.” I stand to greet him. A few paces from me he kneels, “Greywatch tower is at your call, my lord. You need only send word and we will stand beside you.” 

  
“Howland, my friend, stand so I may greet you properly.” The crannogman does as I bid. I pull him into a manly hug, with a pat to the shoulder. “It is good to see you old friend. I am pleased to see you here.” 

 

We step away from each other with Howland turning to the direwolf. She is regally sitting beneath the heart tree, with both grace and power- a queen of beasts. Howland slightly bows to the beast in greeting, she bows her head towards him, in return. 

 

“Her name is Winter’s Fang,” he states. “Fang, for the bite of the North- a bite that is both strong and fierce, as the winter she lives among. Or for the attack she would mount against the enemies who wish to do harm to her pack.” I shiver at the way they stare at one another. A vicious vision enters my mind of her chewing on a man, the way a hound would his toy. 

 

“Fang,” she seems pleased by the name, her tail wagging and a tongue hanging about her muzzle. She barks in contentment. I turn my attention back to Howland, “I am happy to see you at last in Winterfell, but I am curious to know your reason. Any matters that need my attention in court?” 

 

Howland is gazing at the heart tree as if in a conversation with it. Maybe he is,  _ I’ve seen weirder _ . The Old Gods certainly have been busy with us Starks. 

 

“He’s not here for you.” I turn to look toward the entrance of the godswood. She-Harriet- is standing there waiting to enter the sacred land. Her black beast beside her and the wolf pups trotting about his legs. They have grown large in the few weeks they have been drawing breath. “Well, not only you.” 

 

“Harriet Potter, the god’s have brought us together. I see your plans and wish to help in any way I can. House Reed is at your service.” Howland bows to the strange girl. Lady Potter admits a small curtsy in return. 

 

She was a mystery, but I sensed nothing dishonest from her. She has been nothing but courteous to my family and all those coming to Winterfell. Not to mention the gods themselves have sent her here. Why else would the direwolves be here? And on the same day she woke from her fever dreams, no less? 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ _ Lord Stark. There are five pups...one for each of the stark children. The direwolf is a sigil of your house. They were meant to have them.” ** _ Jon’s voice says to me after the last pup was delivered. He is right. He is also a Stark, would but I could give you my name, son.

 

“What about you, Jon? You’re a Stark too!” Arya yells from her spot next to Robb. 

 

We were all sitting around in the godswood waiting to see how many pups the bitch would deliver. There were five, at present. The maester is tending to the she-wolf now after her delivery. 

 

Jon looks to the ground and hesitates a second before he answers without emotion, “I’m not a Stark, Arya. Just a bastard.” Jon looks up, it is unfortunate his gaze lands on my lady wife. Her expression is cold, with her lips pursed together. Jon looks away, not wanting to cause trouble with her. Cat turns her gaze away with a hint of smug triumph, when she sees my gaze, however, her expression is startled, her face tightens in displeasure and then her gaze is blank, with no hint of her emotions. She must sense my displeasure, though, as she turns her gaze back to the pups.

 

One of the wolves whines low and weak. “Oh!” Harriet calls out, stroking the belly of the she-wolf. “Ser, I think there’s more.” 

 

I watch her as she palms the bitch’s belly. “I can feel a faint kick.” The Maester kneels down next to her, pressing down on various places on her belly. The white wolf whines again as Padfoot growls a threat at the maester. 

 

“Shush Padfoot, we need to figure out what’s wrong. Let the man do his job.” The large black wolf throws his body down next to the white wolf in a fit of temper. “Drama queen.” Harriet snorts out, tapping Padfoot on the nose with her forefinger.

 

“There’s definitely another one in there. It seems to be coming out backwards. If we don’t turn it, it could possible kill them both.” Padfoot whines painfully, laying his head next to the white wolf. He licks her muzzle then nuzzles the fur at her neck. She gives one painful lick to the cheek close to hers, too weak to move more than tongue.

 

“Don’t worry Padfoot, she’ll be okay. I have a few potions here with me, everything will be okay.” Harriet strokes the fur atop his head. Cat takes Sansa, Bran and Rickon inside to get ready for dinner, Theon goes with them. Arya refuses to leave, Jon and Robb are staying. Why can’t she? I give her the permission she seeks to stay, so far the beast has not attacked us, she is safe for now. It is a glorious thing to see the birth of a new beast, after all. Even more so with the direwolves, as they hadn’t been seen south of the wall for thousands of years.  

 

It took time, but eventually the maester exclaims the birth of the last wolf. The maester takes the pup to the wolf, but she refuses him, turning her head away. Padfoot whines, getting up to move toward his newest pup. He grabs the pup at the scruff of its neck with his large and sharp teeth, moving them both gently toward the head of the white wolf. She breathes a warning growl at him. Padfoot whines in the back of his throat, but moves the pup away from the bitch. 

 

Padfoot lays the pup at his feet, he noses down to the pup and licks the afterbirth off the dirty white pup. Padfoot gags and stops licking the pup. He coughs up, Harriet is laughing at him. He looks around and grabs the pup in his teeth once more. He leads the pup to the pond next to the heart tree. 

 

“Padfoot, no!” Harriet yells, but it is too late. Padfoot has dipped the pup in the pond and back out, placing the pup next to him, then dips his own muzzle into the water drinking deeply. Harriet runs to them and grabs the pup. 

 

“He’s so cold,” Harriet cries at the temperature of the smallest pup in his arms.”He’s shaking.” Jon is quick to remove his cloak and give it to Harriet. She is reaching for the cloak, but staring at the pup. Her hand misses his outstretched hand and grabs his wrist instead. Something stops them both, as they stare at one another. Curious. A moment is shared between the two. I keep them in my sights, least they think of doing something untoward. I am about ready to clear my throat to interrupt but Harriet pulls her hand back and looks up, grabbing the cloak from his hands this time. She wraps the pup up in it thanking Jon. She uses the edge of the cloak to wipe the afterbirth off of the pup. 

 

Padfoot growls and moves in between the two, pushing Jon away from her. He sniffs the bundle in Harriet’s arms giving a crying whine. “Padfoot.” Harriet’s voice is stern. “You don’t take a newborn and dip them into an icy cold pond to clean them up. I would’ve cleaned him up for you. You could’ve killed him!” 

 

Padfoot whines lowering his ears and head, his belly to the ground, a hint of tears at the bottom of his eyes. “No! Don’t give me those puppy eyes. HA! I see what you did there Pads. It’s not gonna work.” She scolds him. Padfoot’s ears perk up again, but this time he is anxious, letting out a crying bark. He noses the pup again. 

 

Harriet looks down at the pup. “He’s not breathing!” Something within me clutches in my chest. I reach up to rub at the spot, but nothing eases it. From the corners of my eye, I can see Arya and Robb rubbing the same spot as me on their own chests. Harriet is frozen in the moment, unsure of what to do. She runs a hand down the underside of the pup. She looks around the meadow but suddenly she runs over to the heart tree. Jon is beside her, once more. Harriet places the pup in to Jon’s arm. “Here, hold him. When I’m ready, open up the cloak, I’ll tell you when. Trust me.” 

 

I watch as Harriet places her hand on the heart tree, and closes her eyes. A soft breeze glides through the godswood, I can feel something deep in my core, power calling out to power. I can sense something within both Harriet and Jon, and two more somethings from next to me. Jon stares at the girl, she has some kind of weirwood branch in her hand, the very tip of it is glowing a bright white. Jon takes the pup out of the cloak and cradles it in his arm, ignoring the command to wait for Harriet’s ‘when.’ He is holding the pup close to his chest almost, as if he were holding a babe. 

 

Harriet reaches over and grabs one of Jon’s hands in both of hers, the strange branch still in her hand. She removes the riding glove from his hand and traces a line down his palm using just her pointer finger. The caress is strangely intimate- it is just the two of them in this moment. I, again, move to remind them of propriety, but she already places the one hand with the branch on the weirwood tree and cups the back of his hand in her other hand. 

 

_Maybe she could be good for him._ I think, but shake my head to let the thought fly away. _Nay, he always wanted to join the Night’s Watch.They take a vow of Celibacy, the girl would turn him away from his calling._ _It wasn’t always his calling. With his siblings dead, the throne should go to him, but nay, the Baratheons control it._

 

I have always wondered who Jon would have grown up to be if his mother and father raised him. What kind of prince would he have made? Would the small folk love him? Would the Lords follow him? 

 

_ Promise me, Ned.  _ Her voice plays across my mind. Almost as if she were laying before me like that day. As if I were still the young Lad who galloped to the Tower of Joy to see my sister home, where she belonged.

 

I push those thoughts away. Only to see Jon’s hand is glowing the same blinding white as the end of Harriet’s branch. She leads the hand in her own to the pup. A faint amber glow lights the pup from within. His eyes open in a startling, deep Lannister blood red color,  to a glowing orange as bright as the sun just as it is setting for the day. 

 

Jon and Harriet gasp together in unison, both turn their heads up toward the sky, eyes closed. Padfoot whines, making his way to the couple. He sniffs the pup and barks in happiness. It is then that I notice the puppy is breathing. The pup is quiet, but he is breathing. Cuddling in to Padfoot’s muzzle. He lives, for now. 

Jon and Harriet open their eyes, both sets are glowing, Jon’s a faint violet color and Harriet’s are a faint mint color. I panic for just a moment. No one need see Jon’s eyes the color the same as his ancestors. 

 

Together they take a deep breath in, and letting it out shakily, but together once more. They both return to their consciousness from wherever the gods had taken them. Jon’s grip on the pup loosens almost allowing the pup to drop, but he regains his senses and brings the pup to his chest. At the same time, Harriet reacts, rushing forward to catch the pup in to her arms. Their arms tangle together in an awkward embrace. She has her arms circled around his forearms, while he is his holding the pup. Her arms are locked between his chest and the pup. His are improperly between her chest and the pup.

 

“I’m sorry,” they both rush to apologize, cheeks aflame. They try to disentangle, but that only makes things more embarrassing as her hands get stuck under his tunic onto skin, and his down the front of her dress. They gasp and turn an even darker shade of red. Jon may actually faint. I feel faint sorrow for the poor lad, and quite a bit of amusement.

 

Robb bursts out in laughter beside me. “You can’t get her with babe by just touching her chest, brother.” Jon is stumbling over his words trying to apologize to the girl.  I take pity and walk over to them to help, slapping Robb across the back of his head on my way over.

 

“Oww!” Robb yelps. 

 

“Mind your words, son.” I scold. 

 

I grab the pup out of their arms, hoping this untangles them faster. I kneel down with the pup in my arms bringing him closer to Padfoot. He sniffs me and then the pup, licking the top of the pup’s head. Padfoot turns around and lays next to the white wolf, allowing her to lean against him, as the rest of their pack is either rooting for milk, or sleeping atop one another. I take the pup towards its litter mates. The white wolf growls low once more. 

 

“He’s the runt of the litter. She won’t accept the puppy as hers. She sees him as being weak and not strong enough to be part of her pack.” Harriet says from next to me. “The pack is not allowed to be weak, and therefore he is not considered part of the pack. Maybe that’ll change when he grows older, but for now, she won’t allow it.” 

 

I turn to Jon gently placing the pup back into his arms, “then he is your responsibility. You will have to make sure he lives.” 

 

“Me? You will not keep him for yourself, Father?” Jon is steady in his question. He shows no emotion in his voice, although his eyes, which were always grey as the stormy sky, like my and his mother’s, are rimmed with a violet ring around the iris, and a shred of hope. 

 

“There are six pups, one for each of the Stark children. The direwolf is a sigil of my house. As my son you are meant to have him.” I repeat his words back to him. Jon smiles- something I have not seen from him since Cat explained what a bastard was. Arya cheers from behind me and Robb pats Jon on the back. “Thank you, father. I’ll take good care of him.” 

 

“See that you do.” 

 

Harriet is gazing at me, there is a shiver that goes down my spine, as if her eyes can see deep into my heart. 

 

_ Promise me, Ned. _

 

“You have magic.” Harriet’s voice is soft. “I can feel it in you, you and your children. I cannot sense it in Lady Catelyn, though. I assume because she was married in to the family- she’s a muggle.” 

 

“Muggle? Magic? The Northern kings of old were said to have magic, from the time that the Children of the Forest lived. Bran the Builder had magic. He used it to build some of the castles in Westeros and the Wall at the very North of the kingdom. Magic has not lived here since the time of the dragons.” 

 

Harriet giggles behind her hands, “Bob the builder, can he fix it? Bob the builder, yes he can!” she sings with a wide smile. It’s not a song I heard about Bran before. I wonder if she is from the North after all, maybe one of the lesser houses.  Or a wildling. I frown thinking of it. Winter  _ is  _ Coming. Maybe one of the clans decided to send a spy. She is too aware of her courtesies. She is a well bred young lady, not at all an uncouth wildling.

 

“Bran the builder,” I correct. She smiles at me, humming the same tune. 

 

“Wait a minute!” she stops her humming, “Dragons? You have dragons here?” her eyes widen. 

 

“Had.” Arya says from under us. We both look down and see she has finally moved away from the direwolves. “The dragons died out. King Aegon the Fifth tried to bring them back at Summerhall, but he ended up killing most of his family and destroying the dragon eggs in an effort to hatch them.” 

 

“I’m glad to see your history lessons are sticking.” I tease my youngest daughter. “If only you took to your sewing lessons as well as your history, you wouldn’t be getting into half the trouble you do.” Robb and Jon laugh at my sally. 

 

“So... if the dragons were to come back, would magic come back too? Besides you all, who else has magic? Is magic legal in your world?” Harriet asks. 

 

“I suppose if they did somehow come back, magic would. The Citadel have these glass candles that are supposed to burn when magic comes in to the world. I suppose it is possible.” I wonder what it would be like to have magic, like that of Bran the Builder. I could fix up some of the abandoned castles around here. A dowry for each of my children, aside from my heir, maybe even Jon would have a castle.  _ Best not think of that. Catelyn will never accept him in the North. Jon is safe as long as I am here.  _

 

“As for who else. The only ones that come to mind are some of the people from the Free Cities. The faceless men of Braavos, the R’hollar followers from Asshai, the Warlocks from Qarth, the Woods Witches from Westeros, the Targaryens were considered to have magic since they were dragon-riders, even the Starks had magic.” 

 

“Have magic,” Harriet looks to me. “The Starks have magic.” 

 

“Had magic. They were said to be wargs, once.” I explain

 

“Have magic, Lord Ned. I can feel it within you all. I feel it the strongest when I am touching the tree. What’s a warg?” She has a curious look about her. 

 

“A warg is a person who can take control of an animal and see through their eyes. If I were warg into a wolf, I’d be able to walk and run and see as the wolf.” As a child Lyanna always wanted to skin change into a bird, but the Starks were said to warg, not skin-change.  _ “To know what true freedom is, Ned. I can fly away far from here and never have to marry. If only I could leave this place. I could travel to Essos and become a sellsword, or a faceless man. Anything would be better than being stuck here and being made to bare children like a broodmare. ” _

 

“An animagus!” She breathes. 

 

“What’s an ani-mahl-gus?” Arya questions. 

 

“An animagus. It’s a person who can change in to an animal at will. It’s a lot of meditation and focus. I almost had mine, but then the war interrupted and then I came here…” She starts, “but never mind that. With the magic in your blood, maybe you could do that too.” 

 

“No.” Jon stops her, with a hand raised in her direction, palm out. “A warg does not change in to an animal, a warg shares the mind with the animal and can take over.” 

 

“The crannogmen aren’t known to be magic, but their castle is ever moving over the swamp lands, and the wildlings are known to be greenseers, skin changers, and Wargs of legend, there’s the Children of the Forest, the white walkers and the Night King…”    
  


“The Night King!” Harriet yells. 

 

“Aye, the Night King. Myths and legends Lady Potter.” 

 

“I wouldn’t count them out just yet, Lord Stark. After all, magic runs in your veins and those of your children.” 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lady Potter is only partially correct, Ned. I would not have come, it was not my time to. However, Lady Potter’s arrival has changed things. Winter is coming, and Westeros will need to be united against it. She and your family have a large task in front of you. I can help where you allow me to.” 

 

“Please Lord Reed, it’s just Harriet. Lady Potter was my mother.” Harriet wanders closer to us. “Only if you call me Howland, my lady.” He grins. She nods her head toward him with a polite smile. 

 

“Howland, you have always been honest with me. Speak plainly, what has changed? What is the warning for?” I lead Howland and Harriet to the bench beside the heart tree. I offer the bench to Harriet, but she plops herself down onto the ground. Padfoot comes to lay behind her, allowing her to lean back against the wolf. 

 

I turn to Howland and offer him the seat beside me on the bench. 

 

“Ned, you know the stories of the crannogmen, we are descendants of the First Men, too. Some myths say my ancestors mated with the Children of the Forest. This is all true. And because of that magic runs through the blood of the crannogmen. We also have greenseers and wargs among us.”

 

I am sitting in silence, both Howland and Harriet are staring at me, waiting for a reaction. Howland has never been dishonest in our dealing, there is no reason to start now. Lyanna defended him, in a roundabout way, Lyanna and Rhaegar's relationship was because she defended his honor at Harrenhal. Not that I am saying he is responsible for Lyanna’s death. He’s not. It is Rhaegar that I blame. Now and always. 

 

I sigh, “My friend, the last moon has seen many changes here at Winterfell: Direwolves are south of the wall, a strange girl who speaks with direwolves, who says she was sent by my gods, invades my home,” I give a pointed look at the girl. She stares me down, refusing to be cowed. “Now, I am being told the crannogmen are greenseers and wargs. What will you ask of me now? You wish to teach my children magic and warging and skin-changing, by all means, teach them. Let them fight the White Walkers and the grumpkins and such.” 

 

“That’s exactly what we want, Lord Stark.” Harriet announces. “You have magic within your blood, it is in your children’s blood. Must you deny them? I was sent here to make sure a violent and deadly future does not befall you. The Three Eyed Raven gives us visions, he has never lied to us before.” 

 

Harriet gazes off into the distance, her fists are clenched and her face weary, “I do not want to fight anymore Lord Stark. I died. I died at the hands of a madman, A madman who killed my parents, who killed my friends, who killed innocents and children alike. Your gods brought me here for a reason. The future that Howland speaks of, I saw it too. I saw your head on a spike, with sweet, gentle, albeit spoiled, Sansa being forced to look at it day in and out, while a group of men in white armor take turns beating her. There is one man who rapes her, and takes a knife to her body, branding her as his.  

 

“Then there is Arya, little, strong-willed, Underfoot Arya, who was also there when you were beheaded and she also saw Robb’s body with a wolf’s head sewn onto it. Not to mention she sees her mother thrown into a river with her slit throat. She becomes a deadly killer. Man after man is killed, as she recites a list of men’s names and one woman. One day she poisons an entire castle, maybe an entire family, they all have the same sigil, a blue-tower with a bridge connecting them. 

 

“I saw little Rickon-almost a grown man- running across a field, an older version Jon watches him as he crosses, until an arrow pierces him from behind, right through the heart. Jon watches him die within his arms. 

 

“Is this what you want for your family, Lord Stark? Death and violence and gore and evil, there’s no end to this torment. For your sake and that of your family, I wish you make the right choice. I wish I was given a chance to save the people I loved and to stay with them. I wish someone would have let me know that evil was among us. I was told to keep it a secret for the ‘greater good.’ It is for you to decide, Lord Stark. Prepare for something unbelievable coming, or do nothing and watch not only your family die, but the world burn. Choose wisely.” 

 

Harriet stands tall and proud. Her eyes wet, but refusing to let the drops slip out. She leaves the godswood with her head held high, the direwolves follow behind her, with the exception of Fang. She stands huffs at me, bites my hand just hard enough to make her point. No blood is spilled as she walks away from me, trotting to catch up to her pack.  

 

“I came here, Ned, to give a warning. I’m sorry to tell you, Jon Arryn is dead, I know what he meant to you. Robert Baratheon makes his way here. He means to make you Hand of the King. Ned, you must refuse. If you take the position, it sets in motion the death of the Starks and most of the Northern Lords”

 

I sit there contemplating what he says. Jon Arryn dead. The only father figure I had left. I sigh in acceptance. “It seems the gods will make the decision for me. Did they tell you what I need to do to protect my family?” 

 

“Ned, it is time for you to enter the game. Harriet will teach your children magic, not like her kind, but enough to protect themselves and those they hold dear. Jojen and Meera will be here to help the children with their warging and one of yours is a greenseer.” 

 

“The game, what madness is this Howland? Of what game do you speak?” 

 

“The Game of Thrones.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Please feel free to let me know about any mistakes you see or questions you have. 
> 
> I haven't decided on the timeline for Harriet back at Hogwarts. I was going to try to use cannon, but I'm thinking maybe "current". I have a few references that I've been wanting to use like the Bob the Builder. I wanted to use that since I first heard the phrase.


	5. Harriet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harriet tries to sneak out. Jon-pans are a thing. What did we find here?

Chapter 4 

Harriet 

 

The castle is in a flurry of preparations. The king is coming and with him the entirety of the court. Not to mention Ned “called the banners.” They are a bunch of lords eager to kiss the very ground Ned Stark walked upon, according to Theon at least. They came from the Flints of Flint’s fingers (if I remember Lady Stark’s history lessons well), to Karstarks of Grey hills and everywhere between. 

There were the Glovers, the Umbers, the Mormonts, the Karstarks, Cerwyns, Boltons, Ryswells… on and on they went. Lady Catelyn made sure I memorized the names of the houses loyal to House Stark and their banners and their mottos. She insisted that if I were to be staying for some time, I better learn the Northern houses, which, I have some of them: The direwolf of the Starks, The bear for the Mormonts, the tuna for the Tulleys, the eagle for the Arryns, the lion of the Lannisters, the dragon for the Targaryens, the krakens of the Greyjoys, and the flayed man for the Boltons. And from outside the North I have the elks of the Baratys, the roses of the Tudors and the Viper of the Obirons. I think I got this down.

I don’t have any plans with this new world, if I should stay here or travel abroad. I need to figure out which country to stay in. Lady Catelyn tells me of her home in the Riverlands. Lord Ned tells stories of his time spent in the Eyrie, and a blip about Dorne and King’s Landing. Maybe after defeating the Night King, I could figure out a way to leave Westeros and find a way back to London. Mom did say it would take a sacrifice and some big magic. I have the elder wand here with me, I don’t see why I couldn’t figure it out, eventually.  

I make my way out of the great keep and to the stables. Lord Stark has allowed his children to practice magic in the wolfswood, not as many eyes out there. Lord Stark has no idea how the people of the North will react to magic. He advises us to do so in the wolfswood until he knew we were safe.  

It is late at night and I plan to go through Hermione’s bag and see what else is in there. The wolfswood will give me the privacy I need, not to mention being away from the Starks for a bit. They all seem kind, but Lady Catelyn and Sansa are snobs. I get that life here is a bit different, but the way they treat not only Jon, but Arya and some of the servants-It’s not right. Family shouldn’t shun one another. If Hogwarts taught me anything, it was to embrace the differences, not degrade them. 

Little Arya is nonstop asking questions about my world and magic, and when she is not she is whining about everything else: Needlepoint, dancing, “ladylike” hobbies. She should be thankful there is something her mother can teach her. Mine died before I could even know her! Arya is spoiled, but she reminds me so much of Ginny, too. 

Ginny had to prove herself to her family and Gryffindor. With five older brothers and a mother who all wanted to shelter her from the world and everything in it. She wasn’t allowed to play quidditch, or make friends with those her brothers didn’t approve of. Neville said the boys dorm was awkward whenever Ron and Dean were in the same room. Unfortunate her mother wanted her to be the perfect little lady and nothing to do with quidditch or fighting. She had no one on her side. Which is why she ended up possessed by Tom in the first place.

Then there’s Bran, he leaves me alone for the most part, willing to follow Arya’s lead on her questions and adventures. He can go on and on, just as Colin did once. Rickon just wants to play. Mostly he just likes to mount Padfoot and ride him around the castle. Padfoot always seems bothered, but I know he secretly likes it. I remind him of the stories he used to tell me about how I would take turns riding dad as Prongs and him as Padfoot and mom always getting upset at them. Padfoot would groan and then allow Ricky to mount him. I always make sure to use a sticking charm on Ricky when he’s on Padfoot’s back. Sometimes I set him there when I’ve quite had enough of his rambunctiousness and want him to adventure on his own. Not to mention I also taught little RIcky to say “Giddy up, Horsey!” Padfoot whines in annoyance and rolls his eyes everytime. 

Then there is Theon. He is a dirty little whore who won’t stop making plays at me. As if I want to shag a man who has slept with every whore in Winter Town, literally. Who knows what diseases he’s carrying around. Everything said is an innuendo to him. Merlin forbid if I tell him the meaning behind “That’s what she said.” 

I liked the Starks, for the most part, but I just need a minute for me. I have not had the chance to mourn my friends and my world before I was dragged here. This eclectic group of Starks reminds me of the family I once had in the Weasleys.

Robb and Jon are another matter. Robb is a sweetheart, but he’s got a bit of obliviousness. He’s got the pride and the upbringing of his family and the family name, like a Malfoy. Unlike him, he is as noble, and good, and just, and as Hufflepuff as Ced was. He doesn’t go around saying, “My father will hear of this!”, but he did rely on the servants for the menial of tasks. “It’s their job Harri, they do the deeds and they get paid for it.” Robb would probably have died that day in the cemetery, too. He would have jumped in front of a killing curse if it meant protecting the North and his family. 

Although, I guess Lady Catelyn does remind me a bit of Narcissa Malfoy. I can’t see Lady Catelyn deny her family upbringing to marry a commoner, like Andromedea, just because she wanted nothing to do with the arranged marriage her father had made for her. “ _ Family, Duty and Honor. Those are my house words, Lady Harriet. That is how I live.”  _ I would have asked her about how she didn’t follow those words in regards to Jon, he is family as he is the stepson, but apparently nobody was allowed to air the dirty laundry in front of the guests. 

Speaking of Jon- he’s different. Shy and sweet, like Neville in a way. Not enough attention paid to him when he was younger. He keeps to the shadows and always out of the way of the family. Even though he is family. The way of this world is just too cruel. Because he is a bastard, he shouldn’t be allowed to be a part of the family. It wasn’t Jon’s fault Lord Ned ignored his wedding vows. It is Lord Ned’s fault, ergo, he should be the outcast, not Jon. People are stupid sometimes. I guess I’d be afraid of a bastard if he ended up like Tom, too. If Jon ever made his way without the Starks, he would become a wonderful man. He has the makings of a great leader, just like Neville after he stepped out of his father’s shadow and became brave enough to stand up to Alecto and Amycus Carrow. 

The castle is dark and silent this late at night (Early in the morning?). I silently as possible, sneak my way to the stables using the cover of night and trying to avoid the guards and servants who are still working. I saddle a horse using the elder wand. The stable hands were the ones who usually saddle the horses for the family before they ride out, but as I’m trying to sneak about, I need to do it myself. As a lady, the men are to  _ handle _ that, not I.  _ Pfft. _ Lady. I rode buckbeak bareback from Scotland to London, I’m pretty sure I could handle this too. 

I will say I hate riding horses. Riding a horse is a pain in my bum. And my thighs. The legs too. It was nothing like flying around with Buckbeak. The constant bouncing of the horse versus the smooth flying of a hippogriff, leaves me wishing for Buckbeak or even a thestral. I’d love it even more if I could ride my broom. The older Stark boys have chosen a mild mare for me to ride, one that wouldn’t throw me from my seat. 

I climb on to the horse in his stall and point the elder wand at the door, “Alohomora,” I whisper. The stall door opens. I stick the wand into my boot and lead the horse out of the stables, remembering all the lessons the Starks and their staff have instructed. We make it to the hunting gates to the west of the castle grounds and opens to the wolfswood. 

Padfoot is there waiting for me at the gate, sitting next to a wheel, which I’m mostly positive opens the gates. “I’ll be back. I’m not running away, promise. Now move out of the way, Padfoot. I’d let you tag along, but you’ve got youngins to deal with. Remember the six pups your lady just birthed? Really leaving her already? What would mum say?” 

“You won’t mind us coming with you, then?” Robb asks behind me. I do not physically jump at his voice, my heart does for an extra beat, but I do slowly turn my head and glance over my shoulder to see Robb and Jon behind me, each on a horse of their own. 

“It’s the middle of the night, what are you guys doing up?” I shake my head, “No matter. You don’t need to come with me. I’ll be fine, I promise.” I wave them off.

“I woke to scratches at my door. Padfoot led me out here. I’m surprised he came to me.” Jon explains calmly. 

“Jon’s room is not too far from mine, I heard the scratches, too. Padfoot led us to the window and we saw you sneaking out to the stables.” Robb starts, “I’m sure if it weren’t for you sneaking out, Padfoot would’ve never bothered to get Jon.” Robb turns his body toward Jon, “I don’t understand why he doesn’t like you Jon. He’s perfectly fine with me.” Robb is scratching Padfoot behind his massive black ear, his eyes are closed and he groaning in satisfaction at the scratches. “Now, Harri, what were you doing sneaking about?”  

“I would like to know this, also.” Lord Ned’s voice is deep and tired. He does not have a horse with him, but he does have Fang. 

“Am I to be followed by every Stark and Direwolf in the nation?” I joke. Lord Stark just stands there with his face blank waiting for an answer. Well, he’s no fun. 

“I was going into the woods to find out what I have with me.” I hold up the the purse. 

Robb and Jon just stare at me bewildered, “You couldn’t have done that within the castle?” Robb wonders. 

I jump off the horse, and pull the purse off the saddle. “This purse is not mine. It belongs to my very dear friend Hermione. I have no idea what’s inside it. We were at war before I found myself here. I did not pack it and I know nothing of what’s inside. I wanted to see what I have, before I showed you anything. This way it’d be safer for everyone. I have to make sure there are no cursed objects.” 

I stick my arm in the bag, up to my shoulder. Lord Ned and the boys look shocked at how far in my arm goes in the bag, they are weary of what may come out. I grab the first thing that I feel and pull it out. It wouldn’t be Hermione’s bag if I didn’t pull out a book first.

“Hogwarts: A History, this is a book about the school of magic I went to.” I read, handing the book to Jon. He briefly flips through the pages. I stick my hand back in the bag and pull out a cauldron. I hand this one to Robb. “A cauldron, we brew potions in here. Be careful, whatever was in there might’ve been poisonous” He promptly drops said cauldron to the floor. 

My hand grabs for another item. Whatever it is, it gets stuck on something. I tug a little harder until it flies out of the purse and onto the floor, everyone moves back a bit. The canvas cloth lays on the floor for a moment, until it shakes and pops up into a tent. “Ah, I forgot I had this.” 

I turn to Lord Ned. “Good news, Lord Ned. I don’t need to impose on your hospitality any longer. I’ve got my room and board right here.” Jon and Robb jump off their horses now and walk around the tent. 

“If I hadn’t have seen you pull it out of your bag, I wouldn’t have believed this possible.” Robb breathed. 

“Father, please tell Lady Potter she need not stay in the tent alone. Who knows who would take advantage of a Lady alone. Nay, my lady, you should stay here within the castle with the protection of guards.” Jon states. He’s a bit hesitant in his demand for me to stay. Demanding of his father instead of asking. 

“Jon is right, father. I wouldn’t get any sleep wondering if she were safe or not. Nay, Harri, my brother is right, you needn’t leave the safety we provide. Especially now that the Lords are on their way and Robert Baratheon brings his Southern rot with him.” 

“Robb,” Lord Ned’s voice scolds, “that is your king you speak of. Do not talk badly of a man who calls me brother.” Lord Ned turns to me, “My boys are right, Lady Potter. Your safety is paramount to me and my family. If what you and Howland have spoken is true, we will need to keep you safe. I’ll not have you living in a tent where I couldn’t protect you.” 

“I appreciate your concerns. Really, I do, but I can take care of myself. Here, come join me inside, I will show you.” I wave to the entrance of the tent. I open the flap to head inside when Robb stops me.

“Harri,” Robb laughs, “this will not hold all of us.” 

“Gentlemen, step inside. I’ll make it quiet worth your while.” I say coquettishly, walking in. Lord Ned is as emotionless as Snape at the moment with a hint of the same pursing of the lips in mistrust. Robb looks delighted, he stares at me then his brother and back again. Jon is blushing red and refusing to meet my eyes. “Too much?” I say walking inside, laughing. 

The tent is a little different than I remember it. There is a small kitchen to one side with a picnic table in front of the stove. There is a living room to the other side of the tent, furnished with a long couch and two armchairs in front of a fireplace. There is a hallway to the back, which leads to a room or maybe two. 

I take a seat at one of the armchairs and wait for the men to arrive. 

Jon is the first to stumble in. From his disgruntled look, I fear Robb volunteered him first in the tent with a shove forward. He looks around and stumbles backward a bit. He fully leaves the comfort of the tent. I can hear footsteps moving around the tent. I can hear his voice, and those of Lord Ned and Robb asking him questions as he is circling about the tent. Jon comes back in flabbergasted and sits on the long couch. He sinks back into the cushions and tries to make himself comfortable on the seat.

Robb is the next one in, he takes one look around, exclaims in excitement and bounces- yes, bounces- to the other end of the couch Jon is sitting on. Robb gazes around in wonder. It is Christmas for him. “This is fantastic Harri. What else can this do? It’s quiet warm in here! There’s a fireplace.” Robb stands up and walks to the fire waving his hand over the flames. “Aren’t you afraid this tent is going to burn down with the fire going? Harri, this is unbelievable! What’s down there?” Robb is pointing to the hall. 

I shrug and nod for him to go check it out. He laughs in delight, running down the hall. “If you don’t recognize it, don’t touch it! I don’t know what’s in here and what can have dark magic residue on it. It can hurt you. So don’t touch!” I yell after him.

Lord Ned must have heard his laughter, he casually wonders inside with Padfoot and Fang. I realize he is incredulous about what he is seeing. “This is a wonderous piece of magic, Lady Potter. I can see why my son is so excitable.” Lord Ned is curious about his surroundings, although he is much more subdued than Robb. 

“As you can see Lord Ned, I have everything I need here. I can put a few protection spells on here. I can survive. I’ll have to figure out a way to make money. I can make potions. I’m a bit of a prodigy. Snape didn’t want to see it at first. He even told me he wanted to hate me, but he said I had too much of my mother’s spirit for him to tell me no... “ 

Lord Ned and Jon were staring at me with glazed eyes. “Not that that matters, here at least.” 

Lord Ned clears his throat, “I must insist. I understand you are quite capable of taking care of yourself, but there will be men here not under my authority who may see you…” he stopped for a moment trying to find his words. “There are some who would act without your consent. If you were to raise a hand against them, or somehow they were to go missing, then your life could be forfeit. Some men are about using their lordships against the common folk. I’d not have you get in trouble protecting yourself when it could have been avoided. When they see you in my house, they will know my name protects you. Were they to find you outside of Winterfell, you’d have no one to protect you. Do you understand?”

I did. Those pigs! “I understand your point of view. I’ll accept for now until they are all gone. Speaking of, it’s still a few hours from dawn, can we go now so I can look through my stuff?” 

Jon and Lord Ned glance at one another. Lord Ned is about to answer, but Robb bursts back and throws himself on the couch next to Jon. “Harri, you have an amazing room, but the room with the tub was probably my favorite!” he turns his body towards Jon and Lord Ned. “The room with the tub released water from a piece of metal in a hollowed out cylinder and flowed into the tub: Clean and fresh water! I don’t know where the water came from! And if you turn the metal handle one way, the water comes out hot, and if you turn it the other way, the water comes out cold! I want one of those father, it’ll make bathing in the winter better. And there’s a bowl that’s in the shape of an odd chair and there’s water in it and when you press the metal circle inwards the water flows down and more water fills it up. I don’t know what it is, but it is something amazing, I’m sure!” 

I smile. I forgot how bad people had it back then ( _ back now?) _ . “The first one is a bathtub, yes. From where I hail, every household has one with built in plumbing and fresh water and to make it either hot or cold. The second has many names: the loo, the latrine, the toilet, the John,” Robb makes a noise of excitement, at that. 

“Now I must know what it is that shares its name with my brother!” He is all smiles. 

“I hate to leave you in disappointment, but it’s an updated bedpan.” I say with a smirk. 

Jon flushes a bit, while Lord Ned shifts in his seat, amused, but trying to contain his laughter. Robb bursts out in laughter. His blue eyes bright and lit with a childish joy, “A bedpan! You share the name of a bedpan!” 

“As to where the water comes from, It’s all magic spells and charms. I may show you it all before we leave. I may even make one here in the castle. Or I can explain how the muggles have their plumbing.” 

“Please do, Harri! I want to impress many people with our Jon-pan!”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lord Ned leaves, heading back to the castle. The boys and I leave the castle grounds for the wolfswood. Lord Ned makes sure we have trusted guards with us before we go. Surprisingly, Padfoot and Fang stay with him. Probably to tend to their young. 

Time is not tracked here, they go by the hour of the wolf and the hour of the trout and of the deer and turtle or a bunch of other animals. I don’t get it. By my (really) rough estimate, we get to a clearing the boys know of about 45 minutes later. I’m gonna introduce them to a sundial and then a clock. We’ll get these muggles learned in the way of “modern” technology.

When finally make it to a decent sized meadow. It’s absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous in a wild and untouched kind of way. Every wildflower imaginable in color and scent is here. It makes the woods smell like a mix between a high-end perfume store and wet dirt after a rainstorm: sweet, but musky with a tone of wet earth to compliment one another. There are bushes with colorful flowers and berries scattered through them. Jon and Robb warn me not to eat any unless they say so. “Some of the prettier ones, are the most deadly. Safer to ask us first.” Jon says. 

“Pretty like her, brother?” Robb teases. A warmth clenches deep in my core. Somewhere between my chest and abdomen. Jon’s blooming cheeks are adorable. I laugh a bit at his discomfort and turn away from the brothers. It’s like having the older Weasley’s teasing Ron about Hermione (or me, before he finally fessed up). 

Our guards have given us some privacy, setting a perimeter and rounds for the men. The boys and I make our way to the center of the meadow. I find a nice patch of ground to sit on. Somewhere where the sun is warming us against the bite in the cool air. 

“Harri, we brought blankets to sit on, please let’s not ruin the pretty gown you are wearing.” Jon says. 

“I’m fine,” Robb titters, shaking his head, “Really, I am. Promise.” I lift my chin in defiance to their silent order. “I can just magic the stain out, if I get one.” 

“You can do that?” I nod my head at him, “That’s a nice trick to know. Sansa will be jealous. She hates getting dirty.” Robb jokes, “If Arya learned it, she wouldn’t be showing up everywhere with mud staining her gown, and staying out of trouble.” 

“It’s one of the simpler charms, you can use either Tergeo or Scourgify. Hermione hated being dirty, too. She used to get so disgusted after a quidditch match. She always made me shower before I could attend a party.” I become melancholy. “I miss her.” 

Robb pats me on the shoulder and Jon leans over to squeeze my hand for a brief moment. Their comfort is welcoming. Like getting comforted by most any of the older Weasley’s. Bill or Charlie were the older, protective brothers I never had, they always had warm hugs to spread and a fist to spare for any boy who wanted the Girl-Who-Lived and not their Harri. Percy strayed clear of me, he always hated that I was the very thing the ministry could not stand, and therefore, he was not allowed to stand, either. The twins very often tried to prank me while giving hugs. The buggers always tried to either be debonair to the extreme, fake posh accents and all or they would pour some potion down my back or over my head. I miss them: Hermione, Ron, the Weasleys, Remus, Tonks, the gang… 

I shrug off the melancholy and start digging through the bag. I carefully start taking things out of the bag bit by bit. I needed to get my emotions under control. Deal with things here first. The tent comes back out, a bag of gold coins, Jon and Robb take turns looking at the different images on the coins. 

“Dragons, they must have been magnificent to behold.” Jon says gazing off into the distance. 

“Not when they’re trying to kill you! Although riding one was the greatest experience I ever lived through! Luck was definitely something I needed in life.”

“Kill you!” the brothers talk over each other. 

I give a little laugh, “Yes kill. There was a competition in my world called the Triwizard Tournament. One of the tasks we were given was to take a golden egg from a nest, with the mother dragon there to dissuade us. The bipolar Potter luck loves me one minute and tries to see me dead the next.” 

“What is a triwizard tournament? Is it like a tourney here? With jousting, a melee and archery competitions?” I continue to pull odds and ends out of Hermione’s bag. 

“It is a competitions that pits champions from each school against each other. Our school, Hogwarts, had two champions. There was only supposed to be one. Barty Jr., entered me in and somehow got the cup to think I was representing a fake school.” I continued to pull stuff out of the bag one at a time waving my wand over each item, trying to detect for cursed objects. 

“There were three tasks: First, get the dragon egg from the dragon nest; the second, rescue someone I held dear to me in the great lake in under an hour after defeating the grindylows, and getting passed the mermaids.” I pull out a few photos in frames, there was one of Ron, Hermione and I, that Colin had taken of us hanging out by the Great Lake one summer. Then there was one of me and Fred dancing at the yule ball. Seeing us dancing together, makes me cry a bit. I run my fingers over the picture of us dancing. A silent tear rushes down my check, I quickly wipe it away with my finger.  

“What’s a school?” Robb asks.

“It’s a place where children go to learn. You and your siblings have tutors, or the Maester educate you in maths and history and politics and the such. In my world there are established buildings where every child, rich to poor, are gathered to learn all day for 12 to 13 years. Everyone learns, not just the rich.”

I place the picture in my hands aside, face down. I continue on, pulling random books, trinkets and momentos out of the bag. 

“The last task was a maze filled with magical creatures blocking the path. We were tasked with either defeating the creature or finding another path. Although, Barty made it easy for me.” 

Finally, I reach the end of the bag, the last item I pull out is the bracelet, with the many charms. 

“Ah-ha!” I hold it over my head in triumph. I clasp the bracelet on my wrist, the charms vibrate and emit a faint chime, like before when I first found the piece of jewellery. I stroke the different charms attached on

I look back down and realize there’s actually something else stuck in the bag. A piece of parchment. I take it out and place it under my leg so it won’t fly away. I’ll look at that later. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After returning everything back to the purse, the rest of our time in the meadow was trying to figure out how to “unlock” the charms. The only one I was able to get to before was the wand. The boys and the guards both lounged around waiting for me to figure out the bracelet. 

“Lady Harri, have you come any closer to finishing up? It is approaching midday, we should head back home to get a meal.” I see Robb stand as he gathers the guard, Jon gets up too, walking around the meadow to stretch his legs. 

I return my focus to the bracelet, “I feel like I’m missing something easy. I’ve tried every spell I could think of. I’ve tried taking each charm off. I’ve tried releasing pure, magic at it.” I gasp. Lord Ned made me promise not to tell anyone about magic, and here I’ve just blurted it out in front of the guards. I nervously look up at the boys, the guards stand there with dumbfounded looks on their faces. Can’t tell muggles about magic, you blow up Aunt Marge, can’t tell Northerns about magic, blurt it out at the first sign of struggle. “ _ Brilliant job, Harri _ ” I hear Hermione scold

“Lady Harriet,” Ser Roderick steps forward. “Lord Stark says you do things that the gods have asked of you. He says we may even see some things that cannot be explained. I am not here to judge the gifts the gods have granted you. Magic lived in the Starks before, maybe it is time for it once again.” He winks with a small grin on his wrinkled face. I smile. 

“Okay. No one tells Lord Ned, he made me promise. I didn’t mean for it to come out.” I turn pleading eyes on the group. 

“Your secret is safe with us Lady Potter,” Jon says. “But I am getting hungry and I’m sure the rest of our merry little party is too. Let us make our way back to Winterfell to eat.” 

I frown, “Please Jon, it’s just friends out here call me, Harriet or Harri. I’m close to figuring this out, I know it. I don’t want to have to start all over again. If I leave now I don’t think I’ll be able to get to this point again!” I’m whining a bit and I know it. “Ooh!” I exclaim, “I have a better idea.” I grab the tent out of Hermione’s bag and have it pop up. I hear the guards gasp as the tent popped up. 

“Robb, in the kitchen there’s a fridge full of food, there should be a small pantry next to it. Use whatever you need, if there is even something in there. I can get more later. If that’s okay with everyone? There should be enough to feed us all.” 

“Forgive me, my lady. But maybe it’s best if I go through the food and cook. Our Lordling here usually cooks food just a tad overdone, enough so that even the hounds leave it on the floor.” Jory says, as the other guards and Jon are laughing. Robb tries to pout, but seeing everyone in a good mood has him shrugging his shoulders. 

“Come Jory, I’ll show you this magical food closet called a ‘fridge.’ It’s actually quite amazing.” Robb leads Jory inside. There is a loud gasp and then Ser Jory is outside the tent again. He walks around the tent touching the walls as he walks around. He makes his way back to the entrance and through the canvas doors.There are awe-filled sounds coming from inside. I smile and turn back to my puzzle. 

“Lady Potter, Why do you not try using your magic branch?” Jon plops down beside me. 

“Jon, I  have told you often enough, call me Harri and I have. This wand is the only thing that I was able to get off the bracelet.” 

“No.” Jon shakes his head, “Why aren’t you using the one’s the gods gave you? The weirwood one?” 

_ What an idiot you are, Potter! _ Draco Malfoy’s voice mocks. 

“I’m afraid you’re quite right, Malfoy.” I whisper under my breath. I groan, “I’m such an idiot! Thanks Jon! I owe you.” I squeeze the shoulder closest to me and give him a small peck on the cheek. 

I reach into the riding boots Lady Stark has given me from Sansa’s hand me downs, and pull out the elder wand. I take the first charm I see and unclasp it from the bracelet. I place the charm on the floor and point the elder wand at it. 

“Engorio.” The small charm enlarges to my school trunk. I run my hand over the wood. I smile at the sight of it. Quickly I fumble with the lock on it. It opens easily. I pull open the lid and glance inside. The trunk is split up in sections: there’s my small library of school books and books Hermione gifted to me (left untouched), some Snape gave me and some I collected of my own volition; there’s the section that holds my clothing. 

I pull out the top garment. I pull it out and lay it across the opening of the trunk. It’s my yule ball gown. A white, backless, long sleeve dress with a short wool lining along the top of the dress. There’s a red ribbon that ties around the waist into a large bow that sits on the lower back, the edges of the ribbon flow down the dress and merges with a small train. There is white lace for the sleeves with red and gold thread sewed intermingled with the lace and across the dress. 

Sirius sent it to me. It was my mother’s first Yule ball dress at Potter manor, as Lady Potter. Sirius said she was absolutely stunning that night and no one could take their eyes off my parents. I hadn’t hoped to see this dress ever again. I left it at Grimmauld place after the year ended. I had hoped to wear it as my wedding dress one day. A winter wedding, with snow falling slowly outside in the background. 

The tears are back. “Lady Harriet! Are you well?” Jon pulls a white handkerchief of his sleeve and hands it to me. Laughing, I wipe my face. “I’m sorry to distress you Jon, this was just something I hadn’t hoped to see ever again. It was my mother’s. Isn’t it beautiful?” I run a hand down the material. 

“Aye,” he says looking at me. I flush and that strange clench in my chest squeezes again as I clutch the dress to my chest.

“Harri!” Robb comes out of the tent. “There is a lack of sustenance in this fridge of yours. We must hunt for meat. Unfortunately, we did not bring any bows,” Robb slows his pace until he is standing right in front of us. “... or arrows?” He questions with a raised eyebrow. 

I smile and laugh a little. “These are happy tears. Jon’s a genius, he figured out what I needed to do!” 

“And he made you cry for that?” Robb is concerned. He frowns looking at his brother. 

“I should be insulted that you have been thinking so little of me lately, brother. First you thought I meant to strike father when we first met Harri and Fang and Padfoot. And now you think I make maidens cry for sport. What next, you’ll exile me for daring to say you and Theon seem to be budding lovers?” Jon says the last with a teasing lilt in his voice. 

“Could you blame me? There was a strange woman in the Godswood with direwolves, who attacked father. I felt the magic, too! I thought she meant to hurt father, and then you moved to protect the stranger against your own family?! What was I to think?” Robb explodes. He takes a deep breath and releases it all, slouching his shoulders down a bit. “And now you are making Harri cry and besmirching Theon’s virtue. I’m afraid, brother, that maybe you’re a tad jealous of our love.” Robb teases hesitantly at the end. 

“Was he being hurtful when he made you cry, Harri?” Robb asks me with a smile. Patting Jon on the shoulder as if all was well in the world. I said it before with the Weasleys, brothers are weird. 

“No! No, no. I was able to get the charm to work. This was my school trunk,” I point to the chest in front of us. 

“I found an old dress of my mother’s.” I stroke the dress once again, gazing longingly at it. “I was hoping, one day to wear it on my wedding day. It’s the one dress I have that was my mother’s.” 

I look up and see Robb is not looking at me, but staring pointedly at Jon. I turn to Jon and see his face is emotionless, if a bit red in the cheeks. 

“A happy cry. I promise, Robb. As for the hunting, I can help you out there. I summon a few branches from the meadow and transfigure them into bows and arrows. I grab a few leaves and transfigure those into quivers. 

“There, that should do it.” I hand a bow and quiver to Robb and one to Jon, and continue to pass out the other weapons to the guards.” Now that I found out the secret of the bracelet, I’m going to figure out what some of these charms are, I’ll stay here.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

One by one I enlarge most of the remaining charms, I have a few more to enlarge when the hunting party comes back. I see the men carrying a large buck and a few other animals, foxes, rabbits and squirrels among them. 

“Lady Harri, I’ve never hunted with such fine weapons before in my life. It was as if these arrows were made of Valyrian steel!” Ser Rodrik exclaims. “If you make more of these, you could become one very rich lass!” He jokes. 

That’s a thought. I don’t have very much gold with me. It could run out very fast, especially now that I have to find some monetary way to live. Although, the transfiguration would not be permanant. I would have to add some runes to make them stay. 

“Harri, that is a large collection of mismatched items there. Were they all charms? Or did you find them in that magic chest of yours?” Robb asks pointing at the collection of odds and ends surrounding me. 

“They’re from the both. Although, I don’t know what some of these things are.” I stand from my position on the floor. I stretch my legs and back, twisting my upper body left to right. My back cracks and I slowly walk around trying to return feeling to my feet. The piece of parchment crinkles under me. I grab it and throw it in the trunk.

The guards have gathered rocks and sticks and other pieces of nature to start a fire. I point the elder wand at the pile of brush and start a small fire for them. I step away from my collection and walk around the meadow. I see a few stumps around and summon them to me. I transfigure the a couple of the stumps into large tables. The men cheer and gather to lift the deer onto it. The men take hunting knifes of various sizes and start to skin the dead animals. Pretty sure I’m going to be a vegetarian for a time. Ser Jory brings some of the seasonings and herbs and veggies from the kitchen out here to cook with the meat. They all work in tandem with one another. 

I get back to the bracelet and the items i’ve already enlarged. There’s a pile eggs (but which animals, I don’t know), my firebolt (I Can FLY!),  another tent (this one looks like the one the Weasley’s used at the Quidditch Championship), the Sword of Gryffindor and still quite a few other charms. 

There is a skeletal looking creature, I do have a theory on it. I think it’s a thestral. I don’t want to enlarge it and have it come to life. I’m not sure the Starks and their people can handle it an invisible creature just yet. There’s also a creature on here that looks like Buckbeak. I won’t do anything to that until Padfoot is here, I don’t know if Buckbeak will like the new surroundings and it’ll be better to have someone familiar around to keep him calm. If he even remembers padfoot. If it’s even Buckbeak. 

I leave those ones on the bracelet and move to the next. It’s a black stone. A black gem of some sort. I’m hoping it’s not a horcrux, I’m hoping beyond hope that it’s not a shard of Tom Riddle’s soul. It would be the unpredictable Potter luck that I brought that snake-faced bastard here. I leave that charm there, too.

I move on to the other stone. This one is a red gem, with the sun shining on it, it looks like a small orb of fire within a glass. This one doesn’t seem too horrible. I take the elder wand and tap on the red gem, “Engorio.” The small gem is engulfed in a bright white light, just as all the other charms before it. I take a closer look at the stone. 

A vision of my past flashes before my eyes, almost as if it was played in a pensieve. I see myself looking into the Mirror of Erised. The image in the mirror places a red stone in their pocket. I slam out of the vision and back to the meadow. 

Ser Jory is crouching in front of me, shaking my arm. “Lady Potter, are you alright? You left us for a moment.” Robb and Jon make their way over to me. 

“I’m fine, your gods have sent me a reminder. They’ve been giving me tools to help this world.” I am discombobulated. Why would I be given the Philosopher’s stone? What use can it be. I can never tell anyone of the Elixir of Life, lest someone try to make themself immortal and I end up having to defeat another Dark Lord. 

Jory walks back to the fire cooking the meat. Robb and him trade places and its him crouched beside me now. “What is that stone in your hand, Harri? It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It’s quite beautiful and rare, something like that would sell for many gold dragons. The Lannisters themselves would fall over themselves trying to buy it from you.” Robb puts his hand out, asking in his mannerisms to see the stone closer. I hesitate in handing it to him. This stone, in the wrong hands can bring greater tragedy than one can imagine if they figured it out. 

But it’s Robb. Him and Jon and the rest of the Starks are good people. Why shouldn’t I trust them? Plus, Padfoot and Fang trust them. I look from the stone in my hands to Robb’s blue eyes. I slowly reach out and hand it to him. 

“This is something I have no intention of ever selling. It is an heirloom of sorts from an ancient family in my world. It is dear to me. Robb, do you have a piece of metal I can have? It can be as small as a fingernail, if you can’t think of anything. Nothing of importance either.” 

He looks at me for a moment, passes the stone to Jon and reaches into his pockets and pulls out a coin purse. He grabs one of the smaller metal coins and offers it to me. I take the coin from him and reach toward the purse. 

I open my trunk and summon my potions kit. I open it up and pull out a caldron and set it on the floor. “Aguamenti,” I say, a small fountain of water pours out from the end of the wand, filling the caldron. I cancel the spell, reaching my hand out for the stone back. It is Jon who places it back into my palm. I chant a few more spells over the water, something to take out all minerals and all “impurities” from the water. They are for potion making. “Tainted” water can be bad for some potions, you must purify it before using it. 

I take the red stone and drop it in the caldron. I stir the water a bit using a crystal rod also from my potions kit. When I am satisfied, I call out, “Accio Philosopher’s stone.” It flies out of the caldron and into my hand.   

I take the small coin Robb gives me and dump it into the water in the caldron. I take the Elder Wand and direct the water to stir once on its own, and once more counter to and let it sit. I wait for the water to settle after its turning. I stick my hand into the caldron and pull out the coin. Where it was once a dull and dirty silver color, it is now a glittering gold piece, shining with the sunlight bouncing off of it. 

“This is why I cannot let anyone know what this stone is.” Robb and Jon share one of their looks. They act like twins, at times. I’m thrown off by their Weasley-Twin-esque communication. 

Robb breaks off to look at me. “We’ll tell no one.” 

He and Jon walk off back to the roasting meat. I transfigure a fallen branch into a glass container. Don’t know when you might need some elixir of life. I spell the glass unbreakable and stuff it into a smaller chest found in my trunk. 

I look back at what charms I have left. “I’ll do one more today and can save the rest for later. I have a feeling I know what some of these are, but now is not the time for them. Stand back boys, this is bound to be large.” 

I take the last charm for the day off the bracelet and walk down a ways down from the rest of the party. A good acreage or so down. I set the charm on a flat rock and step back a few paces. Aiming my wand at the charm, I put as much power as I can maintain and yell, “Engorgio!” 

The spell works, the charm expands faster than I expected and find myself running towards the party. Larger and Larger it goes until the sun is blocked by the large structure and the forest has been misplaced a bit. There’s rustling from the trees and brush being pushed aside for the newly enlarged building. Birds are fleeing the trees, squawking at the rude push.

The guards behind me are gasping in amazement once again at the large establishment. They are gasping and pointing and talking, but unsurprisingly no discernable words coming out of the mens’ mouths. 

The forest goes silent for a moment. I walk up to the building, checking the fence surrounding the place and walk up to the entrance. 

“Lady Potter?” Jon questions walking up behind me. 

I turn to face the silent men, “Gentlemen,” I gather their attention calmly. 

I turn to the building and back to them, a smile stretching across my face, beaconing them with my hand displaying the three story building, “Welcome to Grimmauld Place!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Unfortunately, this may be the last chapter for the year. I am going out of town this weekend, Christmas is in 12 days (Already!?!?), my birthday is (four days) after Christmas and then New Years is upon us. Gosh, where did 2018 go? Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Mazel Tov and Opah! to whatever you celebrate. I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	6. Jon Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Starks have magic. The king's party arrives. Benjen arrives. Surprises ensue.

Chapter 5

Jon Snow

 

We do not have the time to explore the new building of Lady Potter’s. It was a strange sort of structure, tower-like in its height, but beautiful in its uniqueness. Before Lady Potter could allow us inside to explore, we hear riders coming toward us. 

“Reducio!” she points to the building. The building disappears from our view, myself and everyone behind me emit startled gasps. “Accio Grimmauld.” Something small whistles toward her and she picks it out of the air.  Her reflexes are incredibly trained. I wonder what her training was, in order for her to be so nimble and quick. 

The riders break the line of trees into our meadow. With a sigh of relief we realize the riders are Stark guards. 

Robb walks up to the men and begins to speak with them. 

“I better start putting all this stuff away. I’ll have to go through it again another time, but I am comfortable with where I am.” Lady Potter begins to put her stuff either in the trunk or back onto the bracelet. 

“Jon, Harri,” Robb calls out to us, as he walks in our direction. “Father is asking for us to return home. Says we’ve been gone long enough.” 

Lady Potter finishes packing up her trunk. She looks around, “we have already made dinner. Robb, maybe you can send a rider back to Winterfell. We’ll eat here and then head back. If that’s alright with you?” Robb nods and tells the guards the plan. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Almost a moon had passed waiting for the king and  his court. Sansa and Lady Stark have been holding as many lessons as possible in the day for Lady Potter. She has also asked father to build more glasshouses. She found seeds of various plants in the magic trunk of hers. There has even been some restoration on the Old tower and some expansions in Winterfell. Lady Potter requested a new barn to be built for the direwolves. Winterfell was blooming and with it, so was Winter Town.

Later in the evening, after dinner, my siblings and I would meet Lady Potter for lessons in magic. Father and mother would join us on occasion. Lady Potter was able to teach us all this meditation. Clear the mind, and focus on something deep within in. Something that pumps through the heart and crawls through the veins. It is stronger when Lady Potter is holding the tree and your hand. In doing it like this we can do magic like her, at her level, even father could do some magic,  even though he couldn’t always make the lessons. 

“Your magic is different from mine. My magic comes from a magical core deep within my body, some suggest it is the soul that holds the magic. Yours flows through the body, like it was pumped from within the heart and flows throughout the body, like your blood. I can feel it when I’m touching the Heart Tree, but I can’t when I’m away from it.” 

Padfoot comes flopping down next to her, licking her cheek. She smiles a bit and scratches behind his ears. “I can see if I have any wand-making books in my library. You need a conduit to channel your magic, and not necessarily a wand. Maybe Grimmauld might have something. If I can make you some sort of wand out of the weirwood tree maybe you won’t need to be in the godswood to perform magic.” She looks around, stopping her gaze at the pups, her luminous green eyes widen. “I can use the hair of each of your grims, er, direwolves, for each wand, or maybe a piece of jewelry like a ring might be better! I’ll have to go to Grimmauld, but I’m sure I can do it.” 

She claps her hand in glee, “yes, I’m sure I can. I’ll need a weirwood branch, thick enough to make what I need. Maybe we can make some jewelry out of it.” A soft breeze enters the godswood and a snap can be heard, suddenly a branch as thick as father’s arm pops down in front of the Heart tree. Lady Stark gasps in shock, Arya laughs and claps her hands together, we are all surprised at the gods revealing their agreement to their plans in such a way. I am certain the faith of the seven couldn’t do that.  Lady Potter is wearing a smile as if she just won a tourney against the sword of the morning. 

Padfoot leaps to his paws and makes his way to the branch. He carefully grabs the branch in his mouth and brings it to Lady Potter. She takes the branch from him laying it down at her feet, laughing. “You were supposed to wait until I said ‘fetch.’” Padfoot barks at her, annoyance burning brightly in his rolling eyes. The beautiful husk of her laugh warms the meadow. It sends a warm caress down my spine.  

“Are you going to make us wands like yours, Harri?” Arya yells from her spot wrestling an old braided rag on the ground with Nymeria, every so often the newly decided upon direwolf named  Summer and Bran join in just to let out some extra energy. 

“I don’t think you need a wand like mine. If anything, you might just need a connection of some sort, to the wood from the heart tree. If I can just figure out how, maybe I can integrate a few hairs from your familiars into it. Just something to conduit the magic in your blood to the spells I am teaching you. You have a good lot down, and I wouldn’t mind sharing some of the spell books from world to help teach you magic. In my world you go to school for seven years to train your magic to become a full-fledged witch or wizard. With the Night King coming, I don’t think we have that much time, but I’d love to teach you all I can.” 

Father clears his throat interrupting Lady Potter, “Speaking of Kings, Robert should arrive in a sennight or so. My scouts have spotted their party not far from here. They’d have been here if the queen didn’t insist on coming in a wheelhouse. 

“My banners should also start arriving soon, Lord Bolton will most likely be the first. I did send a raven to Lord Redfort in the vale to ask if Domeric Bolton could come to Winterfell, he may come with the king’s party if they pass each other on the road.” Father speaks from the bench in front of the tree. Fang laying next to him, playing with a  wolf pup whenever one comes close to her. 

“I’ve been thinking, Lord Ned. I have something I need to speak with you about. The basic story we had for the young ones will be fine, but I have something else I’d like to add. Lady Catelyn, if I may be so bold as to ask you to take the younger children with you while I speak to Lord Ned, I have no problems bringing you into our conversation, but I don’t want anyone to try and weasel answers out of them. I know dear little Ricky succumbs for a sweet, as does Bran and Arya. Sansa won’t give up information, but she absolutely cannot lie.”

“Hey!” Bran and Arya exclaim a tad more than offended, if not a little angry as well. Sansa looks down at her hands in shame. I pat the hands on her lap. “I mean nothing bad by that, Sansa. I have come to consider your family part of mine. I wouldn’t want to put you in a situation that might become dangerous for you. There’s a saying that we are all playing a great game, The game of thrones. It is dangerous and can hurt and maybe even kill someone. I would not like it if any one of you were to become a victim because of my actions.” Sansa removes one hand from under my and places it on top. She squeezes my hands together in hers and gives my a shy smile and a nod. 

“Very well, Lady Harriet, you are correct, the younger ones will go. Robb take your siblings back to the castle and see them ready for bed. Your father and I will listen to Lady Harriet.” Lady Stark commands. 

“I’m sorry Lady Catelyn, I need Robb and Jon here. They were with me and can verify my story. It is not my intention to leave you in the dark, Lord Ned can let you know of our meeting and pass along the story to you, if you’ll hear it. Or I can tell you later, it’s rather important and I’d rather the little ears not be around.” Lady Potter is stern, if not a bit abashed giving orders to Lady Stark. 

Lady Stark purses her lips just a bit, “Very well. Children gather the pups and take them to the barn, it is time for bed. Robb, I will take Greywind for you.” They all do as bid, each sibling taking their pup into their arms, except little Rickon who was slightly bigger than Shaggydog, but only just. Fang gets up and grabs Shaggydog in her maw, while Lady Catelyn picks up Greywind. They all leave the godswood. 

We wait a few moments until we cannot hear the patter of feet leaving. Padfoot, gets up and moves so he is laying in front of me, his large head in my lap. Father speaks up, “What is it you wish to speak of, Harriet? Surely your story so far is good enough, why would you want to change it?” 

“I’ve been thinking, Lady Catelyn has been teaching me a bit about how the world goes ‘round in Westeros. Do you not think the crown would question some of the plans you have? What would they say when they see all the new greenhouses and all the new plants? One of the plans we agreed upon was to rebuild some castles as well: From Moat Cailin to the Black Castle. Would they not ask where the money is coming from?” Lady Potter looks at father searching for an answer. Father ponders her questions.

“And how would you answer all of these, Lady Harriet?” 

Lady Harriet reaches for a charm on the bracelet on her slim wrist. She bids Padfoot to move from the center of our circle. She unclasps the charm from her bracelet and places it where Padfoot was just lying. “Engorgio,” she points her wand at the charm. The trunk, which now sits in front of us, enlarges. 

Lady Harriet reaches inside the chest and pulls out a smaller chest. She opens it up and shows my father a bunch of gold coins. I reach in and grab one of the coins. Lifting it up to my eye and inspecting it. “This is a really good replica of a gold dragon, Lady Harriet, where did you get all these coins?” 

We all look to her, “I have been using whatever metal I have found lying around my room and at supper. I used alchemy to change the metal to gold. Robb and Jon saw me do so when we were in the woods going through my belongings. I was able to use a Gold Dragon that Robb loaned me and used that as my model. I find myself quite rich.” She flutters her eyelashes and smiles. “Speaking of,” she reaches in to the chest and pulls one coin from the top of the pile handing it to Robb, “this belongs to you. I told you I’d give it back.” 

“As for my story maybe we can say that my father was a silent partner in a budding merchant shop in essos. Father was afraid someone would find out his identity and come after us, so he sold his portion and brought us back to Westeros to make a new life for us.” 

“That might work. What would your family have sold, Lady Harriet?” I ask her.

“I was thinking something obscure that nobody would bat their eyelashes at.” 

“What about your plants, Lady Potter?” I pause a moment before continuing, “It is rare to have the North have any growth in crops, your father found a way and shared his secrets, for a price of course. That could also be how we met. You came with your father to expand the greenhouses and you knew how to make things grow as your father did them. Your mother died with him, and you their only child. Let’s say after your parents died-because of bandits- you were able to run and hide. Our guards found you scared in the forest and brought you here. Father recognized you and took you in and you have been with us since.” I glance at Lady Harriet, and father. 

“That is good, Jon. I say we stick with that. Lady Harriet, are we agreed?” Father turns to Harriet. She nods and smiles at him and then at me. She reaches over and squeezes the hand resting atop my other. Her hands are small and delicate, with slim fingers and warm to the touch. 

“That’s really good, Jon. Thank you. Now we just need to figure out a story on why you all call me Lady Harriet. I was under the impression only the king can appoint a new Lord.” 

Father looks to Lady Harriet, and smiles at the edge of his lips. “I can give that one to you. When the greenhouses were built and the plants began to grow, we decided to pay your ‘father’ for his services, come to find out he was looking to buy a castle with the wealth he made in Essos. ” 

Lady Harriet nods along with father’s story. “I don’t know if that’ll work. If you had sent the petition to the King, it might have, but you hadn’t and why not? No, that’s a whole new lie.” 

“Not if you were to marry Robb.” I butt in. The words were out of my mouth before I realized it. Father strokes the beard on his face. Robb is staring at me with eyebrows raised, a question on his pursed lips and Lady Harriet is staring at me as if I were a strange creature. “What?”

“Why would I marry Robb?” Lady Harriet asks, staring into my eyes. I avoid looking in her eyes directly. She seems to know what I am thinking at times and that is a bit unsettling. 

“Maybe you didn’t have a choice. Your ‘father’ certainly did. He became a rich merchant and wanted to become landed. So he offered your hand in marriage and a sizeable dowry to Lord Stark. Your father and mine went into negotiations, but they failed. Lady Stark would never allow a commoner to marry her son, the heir to Winterfell, and warden of the North, grandson of House Tully, Lord of the Riverlands. Although the negotiations fell, the servants love her and the idea of her becoming the next Lady of Winterfell so much, they started to call you Lady Harriet and it stuck.” 

“Jon, you may be a genius! I like that. It’s enough truth that would make it believable and I get to keep my title, maybe the purchase of the castle went through before my father died and I stand to inherit it and a sizeable dowry. This is something I am asking of you, Lord Stark. I was planning on purchasing Moat Cailin from you. I know you wanted that for a dowry to one of your children, but I’d like to buy it outright. I can give you the money for it. Moat Cailin is close to the Reeds, and if something were to happen in the south, Lord Reed can warn me and I can make preparations to protect the North. I am not expecting anything to happen, as of now, but anything is possible and I’d rather be safe than sorry. 

“I didn’t like some of the visions I received.  I’ll need somewhere to operate in case we do go to war. I don’t want those visions to come true.” Lady Harri gazes out toward the forest. Her eyes are open, but they do not see what lies in front of her. I mislike the idea of her seeing this visions playing before her very eyes over and over again. 

Father has spoken to Robb and I about some of the visions she has received. Father, Lady Stark, Robb, and Rickon all dead, not to mention the numerous others she has not met yet. It is discomfiting all of what she has seen. 

“Aye, neither do I, Lady Harriet. We’ll have to make documents and have someone forge them in your father’s name. Anyone will do since he is not known here.” 

“I can do that, Lord Ned. I can just magic the signature to look like my father’s. I have some of his papers in my trunk with his signature. It’ll be easy, as no one knows your father, we can find just about anyone.” 

Robb shifts, “Harri, what was your father’s name? And your mother’s?” 

“James and Lily Potter. We’ll need to keep it the same, I don’t want to give a false name and forget it later.” Lady Harriet says. “

“Then it is settled. It is late, the banners will start arriving tomorrow, we’ll need to be there to be there to greet them. First thing in the morning boys, I’ll need you to be clean shaven and maybe with a haircut. Can’t let these Southerners think were savages up here in the North. Lady Harriet, come see me in my solar after breaking your fast. We’ll go over the purchase of Moat Cailin.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This day is chaos. The king is arriving sometime this afternoon, the caravan had been spotted not far from Winterfell. The banners had already arrived, each Lord was given a suite of rooms for him and his family, the rest of the men had to camp outside the walls as there were too many men here. Father allowed a rotation for the men of each house to eat in the Great Hall for dinner.

Lady Harriet was busy these last few days, we had to cancel our magic lessons with the first Lord to arrive, father was right in it being Lord Bolton. He took the suite of rooms farthest from the Starks. Lady Harriet stayed in the family wing. Father agreed to let her close to the family for protection.

Lady Harriet was able to find a book on wand making in her library of books in the magic chest and was able to make each of the Starks a piece of jewelry out of the weirwood branch she was given. She used the tail hair of each companion direwolf. 

On the last night before the banners started to arrive, she gifted us all our magic trinkets. She made father a ring of three strands of braided weirwood and a strand of hair from Fang’s tail. One of the strands of weirwood branch was pure white, the color of the natural branch and the other the ashy black of burnt weirwood, it was exquisite in its craftsmanship and color. He wore it on the pointer finger of his right hand. 

For Robb, almost the same, his was pure varnished wood, thick in its width, with a hollowed out center, where she placed hairs from Greywinds pelt, with small grey moonstones polished to shine embedded into craters around the ring. For Sansa, she was given a charm of a direwolf, with Lady’s hair attached to the charm, as if the charm was made out of only fur. The eyes were inlaid with small blue sapphires, “for the color of your eyes. Tully blue, I’m told.” 

When Sansa saw Lady Harriet’s bracelet of trinkets, Sansa asked her father and mother for one too. Mikken did a lovely job on it, it was silver and gold chain links. So far the wolf was the only charm on the bracelet, but there are more on the way. Father and Lady Stark must be waiting for her name day. 

Arya wanted a sword to use as her piece, but Lady Harriet told her it was impractical and unsafe. If anyone were to take the sword, she would be weaponless and without her magic. Arya complied and asked for a ring like father’s, as did Bran, they had something similar, but completely their own as well, and instead of using fur from their direwolves, Lady Harriet used their teeth. Nymeria and Summer were play-fighting and accidently knocked out a few teeth. Lady Harry shaped the teeth and the weirwood together to make unadorned rings. Both Bran and Arya were firm in there being no jewels used in their rings. “You never hear of knights wearing jewelry. I won’t be the first.” Bran declared. Arya following with, “Jewels are for stupid girls, I don’t need something Sansa or Jeyne would like.” 

Lady Harriet made Rickon a necklace, wooden weirwood beans, hollowed out and a piece of Shaggydog’s hair in each bean strung together on a slim corded rope. “When he’s older I can change it to something else. I’m just afraid he’ll take a ring off or snag the bracelet on a branch of some sort. The necklace will for now. I used a sticking charm and a notice me not charm to disallow anyone to take it off. 

“I have also put protective spells on these. They will not come off unless you take them off yourselves, It will warm up in the presence of poisons and curses. It will also heal minor wounds, scratches, minor burns and the such. I don’t know what reason you would have to take them off. I’d ask that you don’t. They are lightweight, and hardly detectable. Also, I put a portkey on each one, that’ll allow you back into this godswood. If you find you are lost or in trouble, all you have to do is tap the trinket and say Winterfell.” Arya and Bran cheer. I’m sure they are imagining all the times they could sneak out from their rooms to wonder into the kitchens at night. 

“The trinkets will know when you are in danger, they can only be used in those circumstances, not for sneaking about.” Arya and Bran are disappointed by still a little excited about traveling by magic.

“Harri, what about Jon? Where’s his?” Arya looks at my hands seeing them empty. I was upset that I did not receive one, but I am a bastard, why should I have something my siblings do? I do not see Lady Potter following these unspoken rules, but maybe Lady Stark has finally influenced her away from me.  

“It’s not finished. It is, but it’s not.” She pulls out a velvet bag from a pocket in her skirt. From there slips a pure black wooden weirwood ring with black diamonds inlaid throughout the band. “It will work for you like this. I hollowed out the center and placed ghosts fur in here, but there’s something missing, it doesn’t feel quite right, yet. I couldn’t tell you why, just a gut feeling.” 

Lady Potter grabs my left hand and slowly slides the ring on my fourth finger. I feel a cool breeze like ice, slide up my arm and into my chest. It feels right, but at the same time wrong. Like I’m missing a part of myself. I frown at the ring, but am comforted by the smooth and cool wood. 

Lady Harriet doesn’t let go of my hand. Her fingers brush across my palm, this time a warmth tingles around my hand, our magic caressing one another, playfully. It is an incredible feeling. I don’t understand how our magic is playing together, but it is beyond a warm feeling deep within me. Lady harriet brings her head forward and meets my eyes, her fingers have not stopped their movement on my palm. 

Someone coughs and we look away from each other, Lady Harriet to her velvet bags and me to meet Robb and Arya’s smirking faces. Sansa is studying us intently and Bran is a bit disgusted. Rickon is sucking his thumb, blinking back his fatigue. Lady Stark is pursing her lips so hard, they turn white, she is clearly unhappy. Father is staring at me, his gaze doesn’t leave mine. 

“How’s the ring, Jon?” Robb interrupts us. “Harri says it isn’t done yet, how does it feel.” 

I frown a bit at the ring. “It feels right, but like something is missing. It’s like… It’s like… Ice. Ice is a beautiful blade, envisioned to be the sword of our Great house, and although it is beautiful, it is as if the blade’s balance is off. It’ll work, for it was made to be a weapon, but there is something off and it needs to be worked on.” 

“That sounds awful. What’s the point in having a blade if you can’t use it?!” Father, Robb and I laugh at Arya’s disgust. Her little nose is scrunched up and there is a pout on her lips. 

Our laughter is broken when Lady Harriet squeaks, she is falling forward, having tripped over ghost. I rise to my knees and grab her waist, pulling her toward me to break her fall. I can feel her heart pounding against my ear. I slowly stand, helping her to regain her balance. 

“All right?” I whisper in her ear. She shivers. 

“All right."

“Children, it’s well past your bedtime, take the wolves to their barn and head to bed. I’ll see you all in the morning.” Lady Stark is stern in her commands, she rises from her seated position gathering Rickon into her arms. He lays his head on her shoulder and he promptly falls asleep. 

“Here, Lady Catelyn, let me grab Shaggydog. Rickon is out, I can get him.” Lady Harriet gathers the sleepy pup in her arms and walks away with the rest of the Starks. I stay seated and watch all my siblings leave, each of their wolves with them. Ghost stays behind with me, as he is the only one who sleeps in the castle. Fang has not yet warmed up to him. Padfoot tries to spend as much time as he can with him, but as long as I am away. 

I still don’t understand what I did to him. Not that it matters, as much as I can’t blame the Wolf, I do believe he’s been the reason behind some of the pranks left in my room. Arya and Robb are the only two would dare, but even they wouldn’t leave horse dung wrapped in a towel left under my pillow, the worms in my boots are something I can see Arya doing. I don’t notice the smell until I lay in bed. I think Ghost tried to warn me once, he jumped on my bed trying to dig through my pillow, I stopped him and placed him in his bed by the fire and now he doesn’t bother warning me. If only I could find a way to get back at Padfoot. 

I don’t leave the godswood just yet. I lay back on the ground of the meadow looking at the stars. I allow myself to just feel the magic around me. A soft vibration from the heart tree. I fidget the ring on my finger, spinning it round and round. I never noticed the magic engulfing this place until Lady Potter taught us meditation. I can’t believe it has been here this whole time. 

“Lady Harriet is a good woman. She has a heavy burden upon her and her distractions must be minimal. For the sake of all the innocent lives, including those of your siblings, I ask you to think if it is worth it, if  _ she _ is worth it.” I do not notice father is seated on the bench still. His eyes staring up at the stars with me. “She is a beauty, that is for certain, but that is all you need to see in her, at least for now. If she wishes it after we have defeated the Night King, I will not stop you. But it cannot be before.” 

I sit up, wrapping my arms around my legs, laying my head on my knees and take in a chilled breath of air. “Lady Potter is a good woman, who deserves a Lord who will cherish her and give her everything she desires. She is nothing a bastard could ever hope for. Aye she is beautiful, but what would she ever want with a Bastard? She would be mocked by the entire kingdom. Nay father, she is not anything I can hope for.” My voice is a whisper in the wind, there is no emotion behind the words. Pure truth. “Even if I could hope, I am still hoping to be with my Uncle Benjen on the wall and take the black. They have no room for wives there.” 

Father grunts in acceptance at my words. “Any lady would be proud to have you, you have my blood flowing through your veins. It will be many years before you need to take the black. As long as I am alive and Lord of Winterfell, you will always have a place here.” 

_ Lady Stark would rather you pushed me out the gates as soon as possible _ . 

Father and I sit in the silence and the dark. For a summer night it is warm, with a cool breeze passing through. I stare up at the stars, watching some of the brighter ones wink at me. Ghost curls up next to me in a ball of fur. His head resting on my abdomen. I pat his head and give behind his ear a good scratch. 

“Will you ever tell me who my mother is?” 

Father sighs and avoids looking at me. “I will tell you one day, when you are older. Not now.” 

“Does she at least ask about me?” 

“If your mother could see you now, she would be proud of who you have become. Of how fine a young man you have become.” Father’s voice is silent, a whisper among the wind

“So she knows nothing of me? She doesn't even care!” The wind blows stronger in the godswood, loose leaves and other shrubbery stir around us,“I am too much of a bastard even for her to want to know. What kind of mother gives up her child, maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t want to know who she is or what kind of coward. I’m better off without her!” 

“Jon!” Father starts, his harsh voice is booming in the quiet night. I stand to my feet, grabbing Ghost into my arms. I take a deep breath and look to my father. We stare each other in the eye, but he looks down, first. My chest hurts, the breath leaves me, painfully. I walk out of the godswood, the winds quieting their rustling. 

“Jon,” father whispers, but I continue my walk. Leaving him sitting there. Let him seek me out. 

_ When will I stop torturing myself _ ?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lady Potter kneels in between Robb and Sansa, waiting for the king to dismount. I am disappointed in the king’s appearance. Father spoke of an intimidating man, broad of shoulder and muscles upon muscle. This man is red in the cheeks and breathing heavily trying to dismount his horse. The poor beast will have to be put down with the way it is gasping for air. 

The king walks up to father summoning my father to stand, with a wave of his hands- everyone does. “Your grace,” father bows his head to the king. They look long at one another.

“You’ve gotten fat.” The courtyard was silent at the insult, no one dared breath. I do not see what father does, but both men laugh and move to embrace. The king hugs Lady Stark and presses a buss to her check. He ruffles Rickon’s hair and moves back to father, says something and moves down father’s other side, he holds out his hand to Robb, and Robb shakes it. 

He moves to stare at Lady Harriet, the king stares a bit too hard and long at her. His beady blue eyes, rimmed red run leisurely up and down her body. She holds his gaze, neither glaring or smiling. She nods her head forward in greeting, but pulls her hands behind her back and locks her hands behind her. 

The king moves on and makes platitudes on Sansa’s beauty, asking who Arya is and remarking on what a fine soldier Bran will be. Queen Cersei has stepped down from her wheelhouse, coming to greet the Starks and the banners who have gathered from round the North. She stops in front of Lady Potter, she stares the girl down. Lady Potter lowers in a perfect curtsey, whispering a word of greeting to the beautiful woman. 

“And who might you be? You have neither the looks of the Starks, nor the Tulleys, are you a maiden from another family, maybe a betrothed to the Heir of Winterfell?” The queen eyes Robb who stands close to Lady Potter, from here it looks like they could be a striking couple. Her slight build has her head coming only to the middle of his chest. 

“No, your grace, I am not. I am newly orphaned and the Starks have graciously taken me in. I owe my presence here to the goodness of Lord Ned and the Starks.” 

“A commoner?” The queen’s voice is incredulous, before she schools her face into a small smile. “I had no idea the Starks took in smallfolk. How quaint. And How fortunate you are to have the Starks to sponsor you. Mayhaps with your beauty we can find you a knight, the Stark name might even get you a second son? You aim too high with the Heir, no self respecting landed family would ever seek out someone below their station. It is quite a shame, my Joffrey always liked the pretty ones.” The queen is cool with her words and pleasant in the face with her fake smile, she tips Lady Potter’s chin up with the top of a large Ruby entrenched in a gold band around her index finger. She slowly uses the outside of her fingers to caress the side of Lady Potter’s closer cheek. It is ever the look of a lioness playing with her prey. 

Lady Potter is still, her face unbothered, but her hands shake and turn white in her restraint, “I thank you for your concern, your grace. Although my father did seek a tie with the Starks, you are correct in that Lady Stark refused the marriage to her husband’s heir. But have no fear for me, my father was quite rich and has a decent dowry for me, comparable to a highborn lady or dare I say, the princess herself. Before his death he was able to purchase a castle to give me when I married, to a man he sought that was worthy of me. Lord Ned took over that mantle after my father passed and has taken me in and under his protection.” Lady Potter smiles sweetly, the kind of sweetness that leaves one with a toothache. 

“Fortunate indeed.” The queen mutters, smile still in place, but just a pinch in the eyes  and a slight uptilt of the chin, speak of her displeasure.

“Ned, lead me to the crypts. I wish to pay my respects.” The king orders, interrupting the staring competition between the woman. 

“We’ve been traveling for a month my love, surely the dead can wait?” The queen turns her attention from Lady Potter to her husband. 

“Ned,” the king ignores. 

Lady Catelyn leads the royal party to the royal tower, built for when royalty came to visit. It was not often Winterfell received the Royal Family, and the tower was used to host guests. I come to stand beside Lady Harriet, Robb offers his arm to walk her inside and to her rooms. I walk behind them. There was a feast we needed to prepare for. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I watch as my family sits together at the main table. I play with the food on my plate. The bitterness leaves me without appetite. Lady Potter sits between father and Robb. Normally, Lady Stark’s spot, but she is seated next to the queen, who hardly speak to one another. 

“Cheer up, lad. It’ll be just a fortnight, then everything will go back to as it was. It is a feast, your pretty face should not be brooding!” The party at my table laugh. Lady Maege Mormont is an intimidating woman. Though it could not be said she is a great beauty, as the Warrior woman and Lady of Bear Island, she is heavy in stance and presence. 

Her eldest daughter the Lady Dacey Mormont, heir to Bear Island, was a beauty, however and was seated close to me. Her cup of wine seemed as unending as Lady Potter’s magic bag. 

“Jon Snow, my mother is right, you are pretty!” she slurred her words a bit. Her hand landed hard on my upper thigh, squeezing just a tad. I tried not to jump, but the laughter around the table roars about once more. Lady Dacey fills my ale cup to the brim, pushing the cup to my hand. She grabs her own mug and we slam our drinks back. I can’t help but cough halfway through. She is clearly the winner of our little drinking game. 

A loud slam on my other side, silences our merry party. My face feels funny, and I think I am grinning as I turn to find the intruder. Lady Potter sits beside me. “Did you save any of that for me? I’m gonna need the whole thing.” I stare at her, shocked at her request. 

“What?” she wipes the corner of her chin, “Do I have something on my face?” 

“NO!” I yell a bit loudly, the people around me silence a moment. I feel my face heat up, “No, not at all.” I grab the pitcher of ale and fill her mug up. She downs the drink in two gulps and the men around me cheer at her, raising their own mugs in comradery. She cheers a bit and raises her glass to them.    


“What are you doing over here? You are a ward of the Starks, you should be sitting up there with the family.” I tell her. What I wouldn’t give to be in her shoes. To be accepted as family in front of all. 

“They’re all too uppity for me. Plus,” she leans in towards my ear and whispers, “I was getting tired of the way the king kept leering at me. Dodgy old man! He’s old enough to be my father.” She dramatically shutters. “And that poncy spawn of his. I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think it was Malfoy reborn to this world.” She shutters again. “Merlin, I hope not.” 

“What’s a’matter, mi’lady? The royal party take offense at your presence?” Ser Jory jests. “Sod 

of Ser Jory, why don’t you go sit up there and listen to the prince prattle on about mommy giving him everything he’s ever wanted and how his grandfather shits gold out of his golden arse. Merlin, if he kept talking, I would’ve spelled his mouth shut and made him shit pyrite.” 

Ser Jory lets out a raucous laugh. “I’d rather not, Lady Harri, I think I’d cut my ears off if I had to listen to any Lannister!” Some of the others join in with their laughter. 

“At least you were able to sit at the family table. Not many can say they sat with the King and his family. Lord Stark is lucky to count the king as a friend.” My lips are loose, must have been the ale.  I turn the mug upside trying to find more ale. My mug is empty. Lady Dacey flips the cup over and pours in more ale, she presses the mug into my hands. 

“Drink up, lad. Stay away from the melancholy.” She slurs, with a smile.  

A hand reaches between us and takes the mug out of my hand, “Hey!” I get up turning at the same time. I’m about to… well, I don’t know what I’m about to do, my head’s a little fuzzy. The man behind me finishes my ale, holding a hand palm up and out at me. Four of his fingers point down and one stays up in a “one moment” manner. 

“Uncle Benjen!” he slams the cup into the table, the guards cheer once again and toast in greeting to my uncle. He throws one arm up, fist closed in victory. The guards cheer and laugh in merriment. 

Uncle Benjen turns his attention back to me, “Jon” he is pleased to see me, I stand to greet him, but he is already embracing me very firmly. “You’ve grown bigger. I rode all day. Didn’t want to leave you with the Lannisters. Why aren’t you closer to the family?” **

“Lady Stark thought it would insult the royal party if a bastard was in their midst.” 

He nods his head, then looks to the floor for a moment, “Well, you’re always welcome at the Wall. No bastard was ever refused there.” 

“So take me with you when you go back. Father will let me if you ask. I know he will.” I plead. 

He just looks at me in pity. “You don’t know what you will be giving up. No families, no sons of your own.” 

“I don’t care about all that!” My heart is racing and my hands shaking. “I’m ready to swear your oath.” 

“You don’t understand what you will be giving up. The wall will still be there tomorrow. Let’s talk later. I’d best go up there and rescue your father from his guests. You know he doesn’t do well in big crowds like this.” 

Dacey Mormont interrupts us, passing another mug of ale into my hands. I take it before Uncle can steal this one away and drink it down as fast as I can. The men around me get excited again and cheer. I slam the mug on the table, taking a deep breath in. Uncle Benjen is frowning.

“Jon, what are you doing drinking so much? You know your father doesn’t like for you all to have more than a glass of ale. From what I can see, you keep ‘em coming!” he smiles in mischief. “Are you mourning a lady love? Who dare break the heart of my favorite nephew, hmm?” 

I blush a tad, staring at him, “The only hearts broken around here are the women you left behind when you joined the Night’s Watch. And don’t let Robb or Lady Stark hear you for that matter. The gods know I don’t need her despising me any more than she already does.” 

Uncle Benjen squeezes my shoulder, shaking his head, once again in pity. I push his hands away, I don’t need his pity. He looks at me and moves to turn around, bumping into someone behind him. 

Uncle is looking for a cloth, “I’m terribly sorry young lady. I didn’t realize you were behind me. I didn’t mean to get your dress all dirty. I know you ladies take care with your appearance.” 

I realize it is Lady Potter he has spilled some ale on. “It is quite alright good ser, I know an accident when it happens. I’ll be able to clean this up right good, I do.” 

She has not looked up yet. They are too busy trying to clean up the small mess they caused. “Uncle Benjen, allow me to introduce our guest, this is Lady Potter. Lord Stark has taken her in and claimed her as a ward.

“Lady Potter, let me introduce you to my uncle, Benjen Stark. He is Lord Stark’s younger brother.” Lady Potter turns and lowers in a perfunctory curtsey. 

“It is a pleasure to meet more family of the Starks. I can only hope you are more fun than your brooding older brother and this particular nephew,” she teases looking up at my uncle who stands two heads taller than her slight body. She freezes staring at him for a moment, trying to memorize his face. Lady Harriet lets out a gasp and throws herself at Uncle Benjen. Her slight arms wrap around his waist as tight as she can.

Maybe she is staring at him in attraction. My uncle is a striking man, but he is older, much too old for Lady Potter, but he will treat her well. But he can’t. He’s of the Night’s Watch.

My stomach rumbles in pain, most likely from the ale. I might’ve had too much. I might have to leave the feast early.

_ Maybe the king can let him out of his oath. Kings can do that. Father would allow it. She owns Moat Cailin. He would be a good lord to her and the people. He knows the land.  _

But she is young. She deserves someone her age. 

_ But he is a lord’s son. It would be a good match for her.  _

“Sirius!” she sobs. 

Uncle Benjen is slightly panicked with the weeping girl in his arms. He tries to unhook her arms around him, while also patting her shoulders awkwardly, in comfort. Father and Lady Stark see the spectacle surrounding uncle’s welcome. Father makes his way down the dias and towards his brother. Robb has stopped chatting with some lord’s son and watches us, waiting. The room starts to whisper and point to the couple hugging in the middle of the great hall. 

“Lady Harriet,” father reaches us, “this is not appropriate behavior for a lady.” He whispers taking her in his arms. All of us walk out of the great hall. I can see the king watching us as we leave. Robb gets up as well and whispers something to his mother. She gets up and rounds up the rest of the siblings. The whispers come faster and louder with the exit of the entire Stark family. Everyone looks to the King, he has not dismissed anyone from the feast, yet. 

King Robert holds his hand up and nods at father, allowing him to leave. We rush off before anything more can be said. 

We make our way to the godswood. No one dare follow us there, except a handful of guards. 

“Ser Jory. Stand guard here, don’t let anyone in, unless it’s family. If it’s the king, make as much noise as possible if he asks to see us, delay as much as you can.” Ser Jory nods in understanding, he seems to have sobered up. He commands a few other guards around the courtyard leading to the godswood giving them orders as we make our way to the heart tree. 

Father sits Lady Potter on the bench in front of the heart tree. One of the direwolves howls in the distance. It probably senses her distress. Uncle Benjen reaches up to rub at his chest. He is distracted, a small frown passes his face as he looks out toward the entrance of the godswood. 

“Harri? What’s wrong? What happened?” Robb has reached us, the rest of the Starks following close behind. 

“I’m sorry. I thought I saw a ghost of my past.” Lady Potter’s voice is shaking slightly. She takes a rock and magics it into a cup. She tries the water spell, but her hands are shaking so much she can’t seem to fill the cup up. “Jon, can I please get some water?” she holds the glass out to me. I take it and dip it into the pond in front of the heart tree. I hand the glass over, she taps her wand to the glass, it glows a bright white and then dims again. She takes a sip from the glass.    


Uncle Benjen is gaping at her. “Did you just see that?” he looks at each of us, eyebrows raised. 

“Brother, it is a long story and one not best told now, there can be too many ears about here, especially after our departure. I will tell you everything in the morning. Come to my solar and I will explain. We can break our fast in there. I will say, the gods have brought Lady Potter here for a reason. You might as well know it too. It might help us.” Father places a hand on the shoulder closest to him. 

“Potter? That name sounds familiar. Ned, I can feel something in the air here, it’s familiar, but I can’t place it. What is this? What is going on?”

“That is magic, it comes from the heart tree and us. Lady Harriet has been able to teach us some magic, watch.” Father opens his palm and concentrates on his palm, slowly, a white ball of light brightens and dims in his hand. Father is smiling and Uncle Benjen is amazed. If his open mouth and wide eyes are any indication. Uncle runs his hand over father’s hand and through the light. 

“I can’t feel it, but I can sense it. It is warming me from the inside! Ned, how- Ned, where did you learn to do this?”  

“Lady Harriet has been teaching us in our spare time. I can sense the magic in you, maybe she can teach you some of it before you leave?” She nods in acceptance. 

“I can make a conduit for you as well, look at what I have made for Lord Ned and his children, let me know what you like and I will try and make something for you, too. Although I don’t know what would be a good core. I might be able to find a feather or something. Maybe I can find something in Grimmauld Place, but that can wait.” 

She goes silent for a moment. We all wait, she opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. She does this a few times. Until finally, “You all know Padfoot. Where I came from, Padfoot was an animagus.” Lady Harriet starts. 

“Animagus?! Isn’t that what you said a skin changer was?” Arya pips up. The Wolf howls again, it must be Padfoot, he must sense us talking about him,  _ Is it just me or does he sound closer? _ “Can he change back?”

“Padfoot?” Uncle’s brows are furrowed in concentration, he is either deep in thought or confused. 

Or both.

“Yes. An animagus is a person who could turn into an animal and back again. Padfoot is the name of my godfather’s animagus and no, I don’t think he can. Padfoot is also one of the Direwolves here.”

“What’s a godfather? Is that not a father given by the gods? I’d think that be the same thing as a natural father?” Robb wonders. “Or is your father a god? And that makes you a goddess?” 

“Well, thanks for that ego boost, but no. In my world, a godfather is a man who will take care of child in case something happens to that child’s parents. Sirius Black was appointed my godfather by my parents. When my parents died, their will said I was to be raised by him. That never happened. He was imprisoned on false charges and sentenced to Azkaban for life. Azkaban is a prison for the lowest of lows. He was able to escape. The only person ever to do so. He escaped by turning into his animagus, slipped between the bars, jumped into the ocean and swam to the shore.” 

Lady Potter stops speaking to take another drink of her water. Uncle Benjen is staring at her a little more closely, “He died protecting me. Everyone thought he killed my parents and when he escaped, they all thought he was coming after me.” She is brave trying to hold her tears at bay, some escape, but she brushes them aside. 

“When I came here, death spoke to me, I am his champion. He grows weak, as the Night King grows strong. There must always be a balance, he said. Death- he promised me that I would have help from some old friends, though he didn’t tell me from who, only to trust the magic around me. Padfoot is the same spirit of my Sirius. He won’t be able to turn human again, but it is him. You, Lord Benjen, look similar to him. When I look at you, I see him. Although, now that I’m looking, I can see the differences.” 

Lady Potter looks deeply at him, studying his face. Something deep in my chest burns, I reach my hand up and rub the spot in the center of my chest. 

“Now that I look closer, I can see the differences. Sirius had a younger brother. He was forced to join in with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He was marked, but he changed sides in the end, and was killed for it. Sirius never knew he turned. His body was never found.” There is a gasp in the godswood, Uncle Benjen makes his way to the heart tree, he places his hand against the face and gasps again. The heart tree expels an impressive amount of magic, the face on the trunk is crying red sap again, but in time with Uncle Benjen.

Padfoot howls just outside of the godswood at the very entrance. He stands there just staring uncle down. It is pleasing to know I’m not the only one the direwolf hates, even if it is Uncle Benjen.  

No one moves. Uncle Benjen’s hand is gripping the tree. Padfoot is growling low in his throat, there is a wall of magic surrounding him, as if he were wearing armor. 

“If anyone,” Lady Harriet begins, “you look very much like Regulus Black.” 

Padfoot barks and uncle gasps again, but so does father. His body is spasming as if in pain. Father, Robb and I reach for him so as not to let him fall and hit his head. Uncle regains his senses before we can touch him.  

“Now, that is a name I have not heard in a while.” Uncle Benjen whispers, but the silence in the godswood allows us all to hear him. Padfoot makes his way to him until he is inches away. 

Uncle Benjen slowly reaches his hand out to Padfoot, “Hello brother.” 

Padfoot pounces. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm BAAACCCKKKK!!!! I hope y'all had a wonderful holiday. I know I did! I would've posted this chapter sooner but I got some new toys for Christmas and my birthday that I was playing with and got distracted, but I'm here now! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that ending! I am looking for a Beta if you are interested or know anyone? Maybe I just need a slave driver to keep me writing? LOL. 
> 
> Plus, I want to say Thank You. Thank you to everyone who has commented or left Kudos or have bookmarked/Subscribed to this little story of mine. I've always wanted to be a writer, but I've always been so afraid that nobody would like my writing "skills" or stories that I've always been afraid of being committed to writing. I do get anxious every time I post. So thank you for being awesome and welcoming! I hope you have a wonderful New Year and here's to living life and being vulnerable! Cheers!


	7. Benjen Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benjen remembers. Benjen reminices. Padfoot overcomes.

Chapter 6

Benjen Stark 

 

“I thought I was going crazy, brother. Father and Brandon were always worried for me. Lyanna, she is the only one who believed me.” I stroke Fang’s head. As soon as I walked into Ned’s solar, she has set herself down next to my chair, placing her large head in my lap, comforting me in her way. The constant motion of stroking her fur is relaxing. 

“You are a much better companion than my mangy brother.” I rub the top of her head. She licks my hand in thanks. 

“Hey!” Ned grumbles. “I’m sorry my presence displeases you,  _ brother _ .” 

I chuckle at him. “You are not the brother to whom I’m referring. But, you are a little mangy when you wake up. Poor Catelyn, she never knew what she was getting into.” 

“None of us did.” The words are out of his mouth before he realizes. He looks away with just a hint of regret. Always brooding, this one.

Ned and I were in his solar hours before day break. We are used to the early hours of the morning. Me from the watch and Ned from everyday life. The rest of the household would be up soon. The king and his party, however, wouldn’t be up until mid-day, at the earliest. 

Ned has two glasses of watered wine. I am on my third. It is much too early to drink, but unfortunately, something that we both needed. A servant interrupts our drinking to bring in porridge, cooked meats and a few slices of bread and jams the king brought from the south. And also an extra plate for Fang with some meat cooked rare and a few pieces of fruit. Berries and grapes are a favorite of the direwolves, we’ve come to find out.  

“Thank you, Alyce. Please ask the guard to stay outside and to let us know if we have any visitors. I’m sure the king won’t be looking for me anytime soon.” She curtsies and nods at the command. 

Ned turns to his food and takes a bite, He chews the bread for a moment and swallows it down with a swig of the wine. “Brandon mentioned it once, in a letter I received while I was fostering.” he pauses to set his mug down. “I imagined you were having vivid dreams, or night terrors. A result of listening to too many of Old Nan’s tales. Lyanna would write about some of the stories you told from your dreams. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” 

I shake my head at him and we take to our meals allowing for a moment of  silence. Fang’s chewing can be heard along with her nails tapping against the plate trying to hold it in place and her large tongue lapping at the metal.  

“I can’t blame you.” I say placing my empty bowl on a tray next to the door. Fang gets up and places her plate on top of my bowl and comes back and rests in front of my chair her head in my lap once more, “I sounded mad. Even now I can see that. But they were so real, I couldn’t understand how they weren’t real, and how they  _ are  _ real, now. Ned this is unprecedented.” 

“The gods have certainly been moving us for many years. I wonder how long they have been paying attention to us. How much further back they have been placing us where they have. You with your dreams, then the arrival of Lady Harriet and her tales of what’s to come, and to Padfoot and the direwolves. What else is coming? What else does Lady Harriet have to share? Were the Targaryens meant to fall? Was Lya always meant to go south?” Ned looks off in the distance, his eyes unseeing. 

_ “Promise me, Ned.”  _ I gaze about the room, looking for where the whisper comes from. I remember that voice. 

“I know not, brother. But if you need me, I’ll do all I can at the watch. If the Others are coming back, then we’ll need to be ready for them. I’ll meet with Mormont and Thorne. I may have to show them the magic I have. We’ll need men, and supplies, and food. We’ll have to start rebuilding the castles alongside the wall. Ned this could take years, years that we might not have. How do we get the North to believe us, or the rest of Westeros for that matter?” 

The sound of boots marching lightly towards the door alerts us to someone’s arrival. There is the sound of nails clacking against the floors as well. Most likely one of the children and a wolf. We share a look and agree to stop conversing. Ned and I wait for the knock on the door. 

“Enter,” Ned says when it finally comes. 

The young lady from the night before enters, she is beautiful and very much a credit to her mother’s beauty. Padfoot is trailing along beside her. He barks in greeting while Lady Potter curtsies with a murmured ‘morning’. He and Lady Potter maneuver behind me to settle in on the other side of me. I move to stand to greet the lady, but two large, black paws settle on my shoulders from behind. Padfoot playful growls behind me, taking the top of my ear gently between his sharp teeth. 

_ The only thing sharp about him. _

“Sirius Orion Padfoot Black, I will find a way to make sure you know how Slytherin I can be if you continue in this vein. You forget, Severus taught me every curse and jinx I know.” 

Padfoot growls at that name, but huffs and throws his heavy body down next to Fang, she quickly removes her head from my lap. She rolls her eyes at him, but licks his muzzle in greeting. He returns a soft nip to her cheek. I stand and bow toward Lady Potter. “Good Morrow, Lady Potter.”

“Please, it’s just Harri, Lady Potter was my mother and I absolutely refuse to be called Lady Black. That was your mother’s title.” Oh yes, my mother Walburga. Lyarra Stark was a much better mother. From the short amount of time I knew her. Lyarra Stark was beautiful and kind- the very antithesis of Walburga Black. 

“I suppose that makes you Lord Black. Sirius certainly can’t use it.” We both turn to my brother, who has lifted his leg and started to lick clean his- “SIRI! There is a lady present! Your goddaughter to be exact. Not to mention your better half!” I point toward Fang. She gives me a toothy smile while Padfoot huffs and places his leg back down, whining at the back of his throat.

I turn my gaze back to Harriet. “Lady Black? Sirius made you his heir?” 

“Yes, but I made Teddy my heir, so I guess it’s not Lady Black anymore!” 

“Hmm.” I bend my head down to look at my brother. He is staring at me, lazy in defiance. I don’t  know who this Teddy is, but it’s not my problem anymore. I’m sure whoever he is, mother would be furious.  _ Serves her right. _

“I suppose Grimmauld Place is yours, again.” Lady Potter- Harri says. 

“It would not belong to Teddy?” I raise an eyebrow. 

“No.” She lifts a charm off her bracelet and hands it to me. I look at the little silver charm, the detail is fine, it does remind me of the house at Grimmauld. “I have it here with me. When I found myself in this world, I found many interesting things had come with me, this bracelet included. It will expand to the true and actual size of Grimmauld place. I do not know if it will be the home of your childhood, or if it’s an exact replica of it. I have yet to be inside.” 

She lifts her arm up and shows me the bracelet, an eclectic mix of charms connected around the jewelry. I grab her hand in mine and place the charm in the center of her palm, closing her fingers around it. “I am a man of the Night’s Watch, I have no need of this place, thank you for offering it, but it is yours now. Siri gave it to you.” I point to her, with the hand I have surrounded. She gives me a small smile. 

“This is the only place I would have called home. It’s the only place Sirius and I had together. He was going to fix it up for me so that we could live together. Anywhere would have been better than the Dursley’s.” Padfoot whines and licks Lady Harri’s hand in comfort. She scratches his snout in reply, with a mournful smile. She stops for a moment, trying to regain control of her emotions. “I’m terribly sorry,” she starts, “I honestly don’t know when I’m going to stop crying over my old life.” 

She sniffles with a chuckle, “I haven’t been inside of the place since I arrived in Westeros, nor have I been inside it since the war. I’m sure Bellatrix or any of the many other Death Eaters watching the place cursed it. If it’s just as it was, you might have some stuff inside that you can take with you.” She pauses and meets her gaze with Padfoot’s, bringing her head down to lean forehead to forehead with him.

“Sirius, for all his Gryffindor traits, was never brave enough to step inside your old rooms.” Padfoot whines, licking her cheek, then lowers his head to the ground. Lady Harri reaches down to pat his back. “If you can spare some time if you can go.  Take whatever you want out of it. Maybe we can find an old wand somewhere lying around you can use? An ancestor’s or even your own. Do you even have magic here?” 

I shake my head, “I haven’t tried in a while. When I was younger and I had the dreams I tried to do wandless magic, but nothing ever worked. I  _ was _ younger than one and ten and I didn’t have a wand to use. I may have to try again.” 

Lady Harri lets a noise out of her throat, “Or maybe your magic works differently now. With the Starks they need a conduit from the heart tree to do magic on their own. Otherwise, they have to physically be touching the tree. I don’t think you can do magic in this Stark body without a conduit. Here,” she pulls out a wand and passes it to me, handle side up, with a slight shake to her hands, her eyes are reluctant, but also curious. 

Her  _ faux pas _ surprises me. A wizard would -should- never pass their wand off to another. This Gryffindor recklessness never ceases to confound and amaze me. I slowly reach out to touch the wand’s handle- knowing what a rift this is causing within her- and grasp the wand. A cooling tingle runs up my arm. The sensation reminds of the pins and needles feel when one has laid too long on an appendage, but mixed with a stream of icy cold water. . A shudder forces its way through me, the feeling is wrong. Wrong from the gut clenching depths of my center to the hair raising prickles sweeping across my arms. I tighten my grip on the wand.   

“I know the wand won’t work perfectly, since it is mine, but it’s a start. If you can use it, maybe you can use a wizard’s wand, if not I can make you a conduit and use Padfoot’s hair for your core, since you are brothers by blood, well, spirit?” Lady Harriet clears her throat, “Ehm, this is a little confusing.” 

I laugh and look at the wand in my hand, I can still feel the magic running through my veins, no matter how wrong it feels. I take a cool breath in, letting the magic freeze into my lungs “Lumos.” 

The wand flickers briefly before the light sputters out. I look at Lady Harriet and then Ned, they are both watching me, both faces that of curiosity. I clear my throat and take another deep breath, and with more confidence this time, “Lumos.” I say firmly. The light is dim but it is there. The magic feels wrong still, but I laugh in a bit of pain and emotion and relief. 

_ I can do magic. _

My head feels a bit fuzzy and my body is sweating. I lift my arm to wipe the sweat from my brow. I am exhausted. Lady Harriet claps her hands, Ned is chuckling, and Padfoot barks in glee. 

“Nox.” the dim light turns off. “It is a little bit harder to do than I remember and it feels a bit off, but I still have it!” 

“Maybe I can make you a conduit just like the other Starks. Just in case you need a bit of a boost. That way you have two options for magic. What would you like?” 

“As a man of the Night’s Watch, jewelry and baubles have no value, if you can make some kind of corded bracelet, I can say one of my nieces or nephews made it and gifted it to me.” Lady Harriet nods. 

Ned’s eyes crinkle in the corners and his mouth twitches up, he looks relieved. “I have not seen you smile or laugh in true joy for some time, brother. It is a pleasing to see. Would you like to try my ring?” He takes the ring off his finger and holds it out to me. I reach for it, but Lady Harriet stops us. 

“NO!” She moves to intercept, but snatches her hand back at once. “I mean, please don’t. I made the conduit with people in mind. I don’t know if that will impact the conduit. With a wand, it is a craft, with no one in particular in mind. I shudder to think what may happen if the conduit designed for a specific person would damage the connection to the wearer. I purified all the conduits in the elixir of life before carefully placing them in their containers with dragon hide gloves, before gifting them. The only one I didn’t purify was Jon’s. I still don’t know what is missing in his ring, though.” 

Ned looks at me, but I nod in deference to the lady. Ned nods back and turns to Lady Potter. “Lady Harri, you may go back to the Wolf’s Wood and go through that home of yours. Jon, Robb and Jory all told me about the magnificence of the place. You may have to do it today. I plan to take the king out on a hunt at mid day if he’s up. I will try to keep him away and distracted until late afternoon. It doesn’t give you much time today, but we’ll have others.” Ned turns to the papers on his desk, “And I do need to get some work done, as well. I expect the king later today to make me Hand of the King, which I will refuse.” 

“This is probably also where he says the Starks and Baratheons need an alliance of marriage to strengthen the crown.” Lady Hari interrupts. 

“Yes, I will refuse that as well. I do have someone else in mind for Sansa. I have letters to send out. I will ask the Reach for Margaery Tyrell’s hand for Robb. With winter coming we’ll need food, not only for the North, but for the Wall as well. 

“For Sansa she will want a Southron, but I need someone here in the North to please my banner men, Sansa has been raised by the South and only the Manderlys would do, but Lord Wendyl would make my Sansa unhappy. He is as large as his father and older than I care to think. She will want a knight. I will be asking Lord Bolton later today for an alliance through marriage, his Domerick and my Sansa. It will give Sansa her knight, and will, hopefully, bring the Boltons in line.

“I will be asking Dorne to foster Arya. I thought about making an alliance through marriage, but she is strong willed like our sister. I fear she will rebel if I were to make arrangements without her say. Maybe the Dornish can curb her of that. I could send her to the Mormonts, but I fear the amount of girls with shadow our she wolf. In Dorne, at least, they have the two princes. Bran will be betrothed to Meera Reed, which has already been documented and signed by Howland and I. And little Rickon is much too young to be thinking about marriage.” Ned stacks his papers neatly into a pile. 

“Ned, what are you doing? Why all the betrothals outside the North? Your bannermen will not be pleased. A Stark never does well in the south. You cannot do this!” Ned does not have what it takes to play politics. He would be eaten alive were he to have been sorted in Slytherin. “These were the ambitions of our father and the machinations of his maester. It did not serve him well, brother. Please see that. Don’t fall to the South like our family has before.”

My brother is the only man playing an honest game, while everyone else is plays through lies and deceit. Bleeding heart Hufflepuff, more like- too bloody loyal and hard working to a fault. Having saved Jon and claiming him as his bastard, don’t tell me that’s not a hufflepuff. Were he a Gryffindor he would have stormed into the Red Keep, claimed the babe the son of Lyanna, and anyone who dare try to kill him would have to feel the fury of the Quiet Wolf and the North. Stark blood is precious and is to be preserved.  He will be dead in the south, just as Brandon and Lyanna. 

_ They would have both done well in Gryffindor. Reckless fools the both of them.  _ I shake my head to clear the thought out of my mind. At least I can see Lya and a touch of Brandon through Jon. Were anyone to hurt his family, they would feel the wrath of the Broody Wolf. If only Catelyn Stark would let Jon thrive. If only my brother would tell her who he actually is, then everyone would see the King Wolf. As that is what he is destined to become. 

_ Broody Wold? Honorable wolf? Dragonwolf? Brave Wolf? Werewolf? Hmm… King Wolf, Wolf King or Dragonwolf.  _

I want to be there to see Catelyn’s face for that reveal. She’s as stuck up as mother,  but at least she never beat Jon. At least not that I know of.

Andromeda would have welcomed Jon to the family. Narcissa would have paid him no mind. Bellatrix would have killed him, most likely with mother’s help. “Tojurs Pur, Son. There will be no stains on the family name!” were the words screamed over and over again, when blasting Sirius off the family tapestry. I lay those memories aside. I no longer need them. 

“Brother, many things have happened. Lady Harriet here is the reason for all the changes.” Ned raises his hands up, palms out with his shoulders up to his ears, “I’m not saying it’s your fault, but the gods have brought you here for a reason.”    
  
“You’ll forgive me for asking, but how did you come to be here, Lady Harriet? If you are from our old world, how did you come to be in this one? Or me for that matter? Or Sirius even? What do you see happening here?” 

Lady Harriet is lost in her memory, her gaze and voice blank, “I don’t know how I got here. We were in the middle of the war. I was facing off against Voldemort, after we had all the horcruxes destroyed, all but Nagini.” Here she abruptly turns to me her green eyes firmly locks my stare to hers. I’m stuck in her pain, “Thank you, for the one you destroyed.” 

Padfoot perks up, lifting his body from the ground, staring intently at me. “I didn’t do it for your thanks, someone needed to stop the madman. I never agreed with Voldemort’s propaganda of an all pureblood society. All I ever wanted was to be with my brother again. And to be happy. All the senseless killings were a sure fire way to make me as insane as Voldemort and mother” 

Padfoot cries out and leaps for me. He knocks me off the chair, his massive body atop mine. His wriggly body is constantly in movement. I huff in pain and loss of air. The top of his head is snuggling deep into my neck and face, his body still wriggling and voice still whining. Until finally, he licks me from neck to forehead, unrelenting in his affection. I can hear Lady Harriet and Ned laughing at us.

“ARGH! Get off! I get it, you love me. Now cease this moronic display before you get your slobber all over me.” That stopped him abruptly with a sudden halt on his vocals. Lady Harriet, too, stops as both she and Padfoot, sharing a shudder and the same look of disgust on their faces. “Maybe Professor Snape really did teach you everything he knew. That was a little too much like him for my liking.” Padfoot grumbles in agreement. 

_ Professor _ ? I stand and feel like every last part of me is covered in slobber. “Lady Harriet, can you please…” I trail off pointing to my person. With a quick swish of her wand, my clothing stretches out banishing the slobber and dog hair and irons out the wrinkles. “My thanks Lady Harriet.” 

“Please, just Harri. Sirius is my godfather and that makes you family. Uncle Ben!” She settles her hand over my wrist and squeezes it. “No! I am not Peter Parker.” 

She closes her eyes and shake her head slowly. “Let me finish, I was the final horcrux. The night he murdered my parents-“

“So he did it, he actually got to you. I assumed since you are here that he was never able to get to you.” Lady Harriet stares at me and all I can see is death beat deep within her eyes. 

“When did you die?” She asks. Padfoot whines. 

I sigh. This is not a memory I like remembering. “Sev, had overheard a prophecy. He came to me saying he would soon rise in the ranks. He was always so hung up on being greater, better- he always had high ambitions. He was going to get his mastery in both DADA and Potions. He was absolutely brilliant. 

“I always told him he would always be respected as long as he had me beside him. The Black name would do wonders for his business. It was never enough for him. I would have helped him- I should have, but he wanted to do it on his own. I would have given him a loan, and been a silent partner for the apothecary he always wanted to start up, but he was adamant about doing it alone. Something about proving to be better than Potter- having been made great by his skills and not by the money behind his family. He was a very proud man. One I admired greatly.” I look down at the hands folded atop my lap.

“It was then I needed to do whatever I could to stop Voldemort. He would have ruined Sev and would most likely kill Sirius. I wanted to do whatever I could to stop him. It was then that the Potters and the Longbottom were enemies number one and two, specifically the babes. I never found out why. The Lestranges were tasked with finding the Longbottoms and  _ he _ would search for the Potters. 

“It wasn’t too long after that he asked for Kretcher for a task. Voldemort was known to ask for the assistance of the house elves. When Kretcher came back in pain and shaking so badly, I knew what I had to do. Kretcher related everything to me. I did my research and read up on Horcruxes from books I found in the black library.  _ Mother _ was so proud of my interest in the Dark Arts. She never realized I wanted to destroy Voldemort, not help him.

“I was able to destroy one, or I had demanded Kretcher do so, I made him promise me. The inferi were there, I remember being dragged into the water and losing air. 

“I grew up as Benjen Stark and when I reached my tenth nameday, I started dreaming about my old life, my father and brother worried for me. Only Lyanna was enthralled with the tales. Especially the ones I told of all the pranks Sev and I would pull on the gryffindorks” 

“HEY!” Harri yells with Sirius releasing a sharp bark. I smirk and shrug my shoulders at them.

Ned clears his throat, “This Sev, fellow. Did you-” Ned takes a breath, holding it for a moment making a weird face. “Did he and you…” 

“Brother?” I worry, standing to pour some water in his goblet, handing the cup back to him. He takes a long gulp, but he clears his throat again, but tries to look at me. He succeeds in staring at my nose, or my eyebrow. “Do you find yourself, “ he clears his throat again, “...attracted to?” he waves his arms and huffs. 

Courageously, he meets my gaze, “Do you like men?” 

Padfoot whines in surprise looking to me and back to Ned. He shakes his head in dismissal, bringing his head back down to lay on his paws. 

“In my old life I did, but I liked women too. Sev only had eyes for Lady Harriet’s mother. Lily was beautiful for a muggleborn- not that muggleborns are ugly. She just seemed to shine with life and beauty, I could understand Sev’s pinning.” 

Lady Harriet could not decide if she was proud of her mother or disgusted at the thought of anyone pinning for her mother. 

“You and Sev?” Ned asks. Padfoot whines once again. Flopping his body over on the ground in a loud  **THUMP.** He is crying and wriggling around on his back. Lady Harriet gives him a look, whispering  “Drama queen.” 

“I wanted so very much to, and he knew that, but as I said, he had only eyes for your mother.” I point to her. “You have...

“... her eyes.” we both speak, smiling at one another. 

“I know. But I have dad’s untamable hair and coloring and his pension for mischief. Not to mention the accursed Potter luck.” Padfoot grumbles in agreement.

I laugh, “Yes that is all true, but you also have her spirit and her glow. She was a happy person, always bringing light to her friends, from what I saw. Warmth is the only thing that comes to mind whenever I would see her. Both your magics seemed to surround you in a cloak of beauty. Powerful, the both of you. Maybe your mother’s side of the family is a powerful squib line. No one could deny she had power. And she was titled the smartest witch of her time.” 

Lady Harriet smiles with eyes shining and a glow to her cheeks. Gorgeous. It is no wonder my nephew is enthralled with her. Lyanna would agree. She would tease him mercilessly. I reach over and squeeze the hands folded in her lap.

_ Promise me, Ned.  _ Lyanna’s voice whispers around the room. I startle at my beloved sister’s voice, the second today.  The same words she begged of Ned. I turn to Ned to take in his reaction, but from the hallway came three loud thumps and a loud voice, “Your majesty! Are you here to see Lord Stark? He is with his brother now, may I call the maids for some refreshment- food, drink, tea?” 

The door door opens wide and fast, rocketing into the wall. The direwolves sit up, growling at the disturbance, waiting for an attack. Padfoot and Fang stare down the king in the door. I release Harriet’s hands, but not before the king sees us. 

“Ned! Benjen!” We all stand to bow and greet him. “Stop. We are brothers here, there is no need to be so formal. I have enough simpletons simpering at my every shit, I don’t need it here.” 

_ Not my brother. _

Crude. This man is everything a king shouldn’t be. I always wondered if Ned would have done a better job running the kingdoms after the Targaryen fall than this lout. Probably, but he probably would’ve died in the south.  

_ No good ever comes to the Starks in the South. The lone wolf may die, but the pack survives. _ Father’s voice reminds me. 

“Have I interrupted something?” the drunk is surprisingly clear-eyed. Stealing a glance at my hand and Lady Harriet’s. She crosses her arms behind her back. It allows her to stand straighter, but also allows her chest to stick out. The king’s eyes roam her newly displayed form. It makes Lady Harriet twitch in discomfort. I cough to allow the attention to turn toward me. 

The king once again glances at me and then back to  Lady Harriet, and then smiles. “I see that I have. Ned, I will allow you to continue with your talks, but you and I will need to have words. I need someone to rule my damn kingdom while I drink and whore myself into bliss.” 

The king slaps my shoulder, “Just like this one wants to!” His laugh is boisterous and grating. 

_ Uncouth. _

He is ignorant of the lack of laughs in the room. Ned smiles in apology to me and turns to the king. 

“We can speak during the hunt or afterwards. Benjen has some business with Maester Luwin and will have to miss it, but myself and Robb would be happy to join you. Maybe Joffrey can join us.” Ned speaks. 

“Nay! His mother will never allow it. He’s a soft, spoiled prick who will whine about the mud on the expensive robes his grandfather gifted him. I want this to be a pleasant trip with just the men. A mighty shame you can’t join us, Benjen. You get so few pleasures up at the gods-forsaken Wall with no pussy to warm your cock.” The king laughs again. Making his way behind Ned’s desk to search the cupboards. 

“Robert!” Ned clears his throat, calming the wolf within, “ Your Grace, there is a lady present, I will not have you speaking so in front of my ward, please.” 

The king waves his response away, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “We are in a private room, there are no cocksuckers here to wipe my arse. Damnit Ned, where is the ale? The wine?” 

“I don’t keep any in here, but I can call for some. Or we can wait until we hunt. I’ll have the party gathered and the horses readied.” Ned passes to the door to open it and give instructions to the nearest guard. 

“You’ll forgive me. I’ll need to be excusing myself. Lord Ned, I’ll come speak to you later. The king should have his time with you.” Lady Harriet curtseys to the king and to me. “If your business with Maester Luwin ends early enough, Lord Benjen, come find me. I can see what seeds can be planted. With Lord Ned’s help we can have glasshouses erected at the wall within the next few moons.” 

The king chortles, “I’m sure that the  _ seeds _ will be  _ rooted _ in  _ warm  _ and  _ moist lands,”  _ here the king grazes his glance down Lady Harriet’s body only to stop at where her privates are hidden behind the dress, “it will  _ bloom _ most becomingly.”

Lady Harriet flushes, her green eyes glow in fury, but the king leers at her seeming to think she is enthralled with his speak.  _ Pervert. _ Padfoot and I must be thinking the same thing as Padfoot growls and noses Lady Harriet’s hip to move her toward the door. She curtsies once more and leaves the room, Padfoot glowers at the king all while backing out of the room. 

The king chortles once more, coming around the desk patting my shoulder. “You should watch out for that guard dog of hers. He guards the lady as if she were a bone no other can have. I have a bone I can give her.” He laughs. 

I’m angry at his insinuation. Ned says nothing, gives nothing of his emotion away, but I can see Fang watching, waiting to strike. Her white tail is sticking up, allowing the hairs to stand up on edge. Her muzzle is open, licking her lips in hunger. She does not growl, but I can sense the danger she emits. 

Ned makes his way behind his desk to sit in his chair as Robert opens the door to leave. He steps out, but turns in. 

“Benjen, after you have established the glasshouses at the wall, your watch will be over. I think it was the eagerness of a young man wanting to see war, after his brothers won all the glory. There is no shame in that. As king, I will pardon your Watch so you can marry your wench!” 

Ned and I are similarly horrified. “HA! You are speechless, you’re welcome, Benjen.” 

“Your Grace, I thank you” The words spew out of my mouth with the sourness of bile, “but I cannot. The men of the Watch serve for life. It would be a dishonor to relieve me of my duty.” 

The king waves his hand in annoyance, “Bah! I am king. I can do as I please, if you do not want to marry your wench, then I will certainly bed her myself and have you watch.” 

“Robert.” Ned scolds, as Fang lets out a growl. 

“Am I not your king? As king of the Seven Kingdoms I demand your resignation from the Watch. You will marry the chit, and be thankful for it!” The king shakes off his anger, smiling at me, “You are in shock, I know. But you will be forgiven, the king has made it so. Anyone who complains will have justice carried out. I do this for the family the Starks are to me. We are brothers, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my fiercest allies. Be at ease Benjen, I have given you your life back. I’ll send my decree to the Lord Commander. You will be free of that place at last.” 

The kings storms down the corridor. Ned and I are standing not looking at each other. “Fix this brother, before something else goes wrong. Fix it, or I fear the Northern Lords will revolt. I will ‘resign’ as an act, but I am a man of the Night’s Watch, our vows are for life.” I walk out the door listening to Ned sigh into his chair and Fang whining. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I ride hard next to Lady Harriet making our way North into the Wolf’s Wood out through the North Gate of Winterfell, needing to relieve some of the anger storming inside my breast. Ned is going to lead the hunting party west and then south. Our party includes Ser Jory, Jon, Arya, Bran, Meera, Jojen and a few other Stark guards. All of them trusted and mindful of the magic the Starks have. Plus all the companion wolves, besides: Padfoot leading the cubs, who would play at sneak attacks and pounces, running away after striking. 

We stop deep in the woods. A beautiful meadow that father would bring us when we were younger. Brandon and Ned would join us when they would come home for a visit- however far and few in-between days those were. The beauty and calm of this place brings peace to my soul.

“Here. This is where we were last time.” Harri dismounts her horse. She is not graceful climbing down, but she does steady herself on the ground. Padfoot barks and runs around the perimeter of the meadow, stopping to sniff the air every so often. 

“They’re so cute.” Harreti remarks, cooing at the cubs trying to copy my moronic brother. They are easily distracted- stopping to pounce a squirrel hidden in the bushes only to bump into tree trunks and cry in surprise. One is trying to eat a butterfly fluttering in the wind, teasingly dropping down into jumping distance, only to frantically gain height away from the attacking cub, who would fall on their snout. Harriet and the children would laugh at the sight.  _ Seems they have my brother’s smarts as well. Hopefully the children can train them out of it. _

“Lady Harriet, I know this is entertaining, but I think you should put up some wards, muggle repelling, notice-me-nots, the works if you know them. If not I can lead you through some. The men can watch the perimeter.” I nod to Ser Jory. He nods back and commands the guards to set up their watch.   

Lady Harriet stops her laughter and makes her way to me. She has a colorful purse hanging across her shoulder to the opposite hip. “How many times do I have to tell you ‘call me Harri?’ Hmm? No matter, I have something for you.” She digs through the purse and pulls out a velvet coin bag, she tips the bag over allowing for whatever is inside to fall into the palm of my hand. 

The ring is beautiful, a white band twisted to imitate branches bent into a circle. The band was thick, enough so that I could make out a few black hairs twined in the middle of the branches. I placed the ring on my pointer finger, it was an odd fitting, I moved it over to my ring finger and let it settle, a pleasant breeze flows through my body.  A cool wind to my heated skin. I twirl it around my finger and wait for the magic to resize to fit my chosen finger. 

“Lumos.” I command. A ball of light shines in my palm, the same hand the ring sits. “Nox.” I allow myself to grin and look up. I step back in surprise. Padfoot has snuck up on me, standing snout to nose. When I regain my step the little shit jumps onto his hind legs and pushes me down with his forepaws. 

“GAH! SIRIUS PADFOOT ORION BLACK!” I stand sweeping the dirt off of me, I hear giggles around the meadow from the children and huffs of air from the cubs. Wiping down my pants with my hands I remember my ring. Pretending to look down, I search for Padfoot in my peripheral, spotting him I subtly point my finger in his direction and whisper,  “Colovaria.”

The charm strikes true, I feel one check on my face lift up. All pups are laughing now, human and animal. Padfoot looks pleased, he has no idea he now has green fur with streaks of silver patched about his body. The silver slithers around his body like snakes wriggling through grass.  His pups come up to him sniffing his legs and licking around his muzzle trying to figure out what the green color is about. Padfoot plays with them for a bit, until they lose interest and continue bounding around the woods. 

I compose myself, allowing a glare to come through as I stare at Padfoot. My feelings aren’t far off the mark. I am still a tad bit annoyed with him.  _ Just wait until he realizes he’s Slytherin Green. _

Harriet is smirking at me, I hold a finger up to my lips, asking for her silence. She nods discreetly, and walks over to me. “Let’s put up the wards, then I will enlarge Grimmauld. I was able to make the ring earlier. I had started it last night, just in case and after our talk earlier, it felt right. 

“Just as a note, the ring will disappear whenever someone who doesn’t know of magic is around. If you ever want to just wear it for all to see, just tap it three times, the same to make it hidden once more.” 

I tap my ring three times with my thumb and watch as it disappears, I tap it again three times and watch it reappear. Satisfied I look up and make my way to the middle of the meadow to Harri and turn back to back. 

We start chanting the charm in unison. I raise my palm up in the “stop” motion and walk to the outside of the meadow using my now adorned finger to channel the magic. I assume Harriet is doing the same thing, only with a wand and not a piece  of jewelry. 

Several minutes and charms pass and we make our way back to the middle. 

“Everyone come stand here over by us. I’m going to enlarge the place and don’t want anyone in the way to get hurt.” They all make their way to the center, except for the pups who continue to explore the new area. The guards are well enough away, they don’t need to move.

“Padfoot, your terrors need to come over here too.” Padfoot growls at my nickname, I smirk at him, but he releases a sharp bark nonetheless. The cubs come running up to him all trying to pounce on top of him. 

Harriet steps to one side of the clearing, unclasping the charm and laying it on the floor. She stands and points her wand toward the charm letting out a powerful, “Engorgio.” She quickly makes her way toward our little group. Arya tries to step forward, amazed at the rapid rate of enlargement on the building, but I hold my arm out to stop her.  

“Stand behind me and wait until it stops growing. I don’t want your father coming to murder me if anything happens to you.” I warn in a stern voice. 

“I’m sure father wouldn’t kill you,” Jon says cheerfully, “It may hurt, but I’m certain it wouldn’t lead to death.” 

“Cheeky, “ I wryly bite back. The kiddos laugh.

When the house finally settles, Harriet and I move toward it. The kids start to follow, but I hold my arm up in an L shape with my fist closed. “I know you are curious, but neither Harriet nor I have checked the house, yet. Knowing my mother, she would’ve put curse upon curse on it. Let us runs some tests before we let you in. DON’T. Touch. Anything! Not without my or Harriet’s permission. My mother liked to curse objects around the house, and laugh at all the people she hurt. Do you understand?” 

I look over my shoulder at them. The two Reeds nod, but Jon, Arya and Bran look at me confused. “Why would grandmother curse this place? Was she a woods witch? Did she have magic, too!?” Arya’s excitement grows with each question.

“No, not that mother. I’ll explain later, but I am from the same world as Lady Harriet. We’ll have to have another family meeting. Long story short, I died in Harriet’s world and when I woke up I was already a lad of 10. I remembered everything growing up to age 10, but it was like a dream. Like a life I had watched in passing, not that it was me. In Harriet’s world, this house belonged to my mother. My mother was the very definition of evil.” 

“You mean like the mad king Aerys? Or the Lannisters?” Arya questions. 

I look at her with all the seriousness of the question and answer, “even worse. At least with the mad king Aerys you knew death would save you from the pain. Pain was the only way to live with her. If she didn’t like the way you sat at the dinner table, she would throw a jinx at you, instead of telling you to sit up. If you tried to tell her she was wrong she would beat you with whatever was closest. If there wasn’t anything, she would conjure the thickest, leather belt you could imagine. It got so bad that my brother Sirius, finally ran away from home. I did everything she asked of me, so I never got it as bad as him, but I still got my fair share.” I rub my right forearm with my left, trying to relieve myself of the phantom pain. 

“Now, when Lady Harriet or I give you a command, I expect you to listen to us. Our word is law out here, and you will be sentenced by Stark law when we take you back to your fathers. Do not test us. I beg of each of you to see the demand I am asking of you.” 

I look at each of them in the eye, and one by one they nod. “Good,” I start, “Then let us proceed with caution, if you please.” 

“Jon, Bran, Arya, keep your ring hands up. At any moment you may need to use magic. A protego spell will keep you protected long enough for you to call out for Regulus,” she shakes her head, “I mean, Benjen or I to help you. Meera, Jojen, keep close to one of the siblings, they’ll keep you protected.” 

Harri and I step side by side and walk to the house all the while casting revealing charms. I teach her some incantations from the Black Grimoire, as they detect even the darkest of magic. 

“Nothing on the outside.” I say. Harri nods. She reaches for the door knob, but I grab her wrist. “I’ll do that. I don’t know how the house is protected, but if it reverted back to when I lived here, it may not consider you a Black, even if you are the heiress.” 

She nods again and I slowly place my hand on the door knob, a rush of magic engulfs my entire body, starting from my the nails on my fingers to the nerves in my toes. The knob twists on its own and opens forward. I step in front of the group and walk slowly inside. It is dusty, as if the house has been sitting closed for many years- perhaps it has. 

I hear padfoot release a pitiful cry outside, it is muted and soft, almost a whisper amongst the wind rustling the leaves on the trees, Jon stops and yells to us. “I think Padfoot wants to stay out here. He’s just laying down in the grass, staring the house down.” 

“Let him be. This house has too many painful memories for him. We’ll be okay, we don’t need to make him relieve this horror. Leave the door open, just in case. It’ll double as an easy escape and a way to air out the cobwebs.” Harriet’s voice is full of understanding toward my brother. I wonder if he told her of the things my mother would make him do. Or the things she did to him. 

_ Tojour Pur _ !  _ Never forget, Regulus. Not like your traitor brother!  _

Harriet steps into the house behind me. The place is just as I remember it. The mounted heads of past house elves are lined on the wall ascending with the slope of the staircase. 

“What kind of creatures are these? Were they hunted like deer?” Arya asks. 

“House elves,” I say softly, “they were a creatures used as slaves. They took care of the households and whatever else they needed done. Unfortunately, most were abused. This display here was a note of insanity in my family.”

The troll leg umbrella holder is still by the door. I see the troll leg move out a bit to trip Jon. I was going to allow it to happen. It’s harmless compared to the other things in the house. It could be a lesson to them. 

“Stupify!” Harriet yells. The troll leg abruptly stops its movements. “Constant vigilance!” She scolds Jon. 

“Channeling Moody? You certainly are your father’s daughter. He was an auror, too.” I nod at her. 

“I was in a war. Paranoia was ripe in us all. ‘Constant Vigilance’ was the least of my worries, no matter how many times it saved my life.” She snarks. 

I smile, but continue on through the house. “That troll leg was something my mother loved. It would’ve just whacked your shin or ankle. It was painful, but the least harmful object in the house. Harriet is right. Keep an eye out.” 

“WHO DARES TO ENTER THE HOME OF THE MOST ANCIENT AND NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK!” A harpy screeches out. The voice is low, old, and grating, but puts me on instant alert. 

“Who’s there?” I question, looking frantically looking in every direction. Maybe it was a ghost or a hag that stowed away in the house. 

“I am the mistress of the house! Who dares to enter uninvited?” Nope, this voice was much worse. 

“Mother?” I ask, seeking her out. I hear Harriet groan behind me. 

“Of course she would come to this new world, too.” She grumbles under her breath. She steps passed me to the wall with a curtain blocking a portrait. Harriet pulls the string down and the curtains part. 

“Hello Walburga, unpleasant seeing you again.” Harriet drolls out. 

“YOU! You ungrateful little brat. I am Lady Walburga of the Most Ancient and Noble House Black. You will bow down and defer to me as such. I am a lady you filthy peasant.” 

“Charming. It seems all that clout and still you don’t know your manners.” Harriet is egging her on. 

“Mother?” I ask. 

“Regulus!?” Her voice is happy and loud. A mad smile attacks her lips. She reminds me of Bella. 

“Yes, mother.” 

“You’re alive! Your father and I thought you were dead! My son, my good boy! Come closer to your mama. I need to have a look at you. My you’ve grown. What is that on your face? You are a noble, we do not look like the peasants, shave the beard, or groom it into something appropriate. My you are so handsome.” Her voice is eerily soft and sweet. The black madness runs deep in her. Especially in the control of her  _ pleasant _ manners.

“Mother, what happened to you? Why were you yelling just now when we entered the house?” I ask softly. 

Her face morphs to that of a hag. Disfigured in hate and black as her soulless eyes. “TRAITORS!” She screams breathless, “Traitors in our house! Quickly now son, activate the wards. Kill all the enemies within!” The frame of the portrait sets on fire. Black fire, cursed. The flames flicker and flare, but they do not move beyond the frame. 

“TRAITORS IN OUR MIDST! TRAITORS!” She repeats herself over and over. I have never seen her like this. Harriet tries to close the curtains, but when her hands move to the cord, the flames move to strike her. She quickly tears her hand away from the flames. 

“Aguamenti!” She encants, pointing her wand at the flames. They do not die down, it seems the water is an accelerant to the flames. 

The flames start to lash out like whips toward our group. Jon tries to use his cloak to make the flames die, but that too accelerates the flame. Mother starts to laugh harder. “Mother desist this display. We are all family here. The children here are my brother’s children and their friends.” 

“YOUR BROTHER!” I mistake her for Bellatrix, once more. “YOUR BROTHER IS A TRAITOR! CONSORTING WITH YOUR BROTHER!?  _ YOU _ ARE A TRAITOR! KREATURE! KREATURE KILL THEM ALL!” Mother starts chanting in latin. The house begins to tremble, the flames begin to creep up along the walls. They are black vines clawing their way to and fro. There is a magical wind coming from the portrait it stikes cold to the bones. 

“She was never able to do this before!” Harriet yells above the wind of the cursed fire. “I wonder if this world makes her stronger. If the Night King’s power makes her strong.” Harriet is making her way to the door. “We have to stop her or she could kill us!” 

Harriet turns to the kids, “Get out, the house might go down. Get out now!” Harriet turns back and places a powerful protego to protect the kids. 

“Mother! Mother, please.” I yell at the portrait. She stops her cackling to stare at me. The flames and wind have not died down. I’m desperate the kiddos are still behind me “Mother, this isn’t like you. STOP! For the love you once had for your son, stop.”  

The wind stops and the flames stop in place, but don’t stop burning. There is an eerie silence in the house. I wave the kids to leave, but the front door slams shut, I can hear Padfoot outside barking in panic. His nails scratch at the front door. 

“I have no sons. They are all dead to me.” The flames glow in the dark of the house as they reignite their volatility. Harriet yells “Reducto!” at the front door, but it does not budge. I join in, trying to help. The Stark children, join as well. There is glass shattering all around us. The kids scream in fright. 

“Toujours Pur!” Mother cackles. “A grim? A green grim at that? This is what guides me to death? A sign of good fortune, the hound that guards the dark world! What joy to know I was always right. Take me! Take me away from this filth. Take me to my rightful place. The traitors will die painfully and I will be granted entry into the afterlife! Take me!” 

Padfoot is bleeding from a wound on his belly. He is growling at the portrait. Mother screeches in glee, but Padfoot is foaming at the mouth in both pain and hate. He lifts a large paw up and scratches the painting with his claws- deep, and slow and with full consciousness of his intent. Mother screams in pain this time, as much pain as a portrait can have. Padfoot uses one nail to cut the portrait from where mother’s shoulders are, the bottom half falls to the ground slowly as the black flames engulf the canvas. 

“What are you doing? You aren’t a grim! Regulus! REGULUS! Son help me, help your poor mama.” she begs. Padfoot uses the one claw to stab at the portrait. He pierces her neck, she gurgles a bit, and blood pools out of her mouth, trickling down the painting. Oddly the blood falls out of the portrait and down to the ground as if the blood were fresh and not made of paint. 

“Children don’t look, this is not something you need to see. You too Jon, I know your father has you watch the North’s Justice, but this is not that. This is something evil, something that will give you nightmares. Please, turn away.” 

Harriet does not turn, but stares at Padfoot, I can see a few tears trickle down her face. I reach down and grab her hand, not looking, but turning to see what’s happening in front of me. With each scratch, the black flames flicker down. Reverting back down to the portrait and quickly losing their power. 

The portrait drops to the ground. I can no longer hear mother’s screams, but I can see the horror in her oil painted eyes. The flames are just about dead.

“Sirius, you can stop now.” Mother’s eyes widened in disbelief for a moment. She quickly lifts her chin in defiance and anger. With one last gleam in her manic eyes, a black flame lashes out and strikes Padfoot down his cheek. Padfoot cries out, but jumps on the portrait once more. Rips the painting into pieces with his claws. A black figure emerges from the painting, screeching it’s displeasure, until it explodes and vanishes. 

Padfoot is still whining at the pieces he is shredding, but he does not stop. Harriet takes a step forward to comfort him, but I grab her arm and shake my head at her. She nods in understanding stepping back. 

I make my way to Padfoot and sit before him with my legs crossed. I transfigure some of the broken glass into a bucket and accio the torn pieces into it. Padfoot growls at me, but I can tell he doesn’t mean it. Strange how in tune I am to his emotions. I stretch my legs out in a “v” in front of my body. I reach forward and grab his front legs and pull him toward me. He drops his body between my legs and lays his head on my shoulder. He is crying fat drops onto my neck, his large body is shaking, but I don’t care. My brother needs to be comforted. 

“She’s gone Siri. She won’t ever be able to hurt you again.” I whisper in his ear. He cries his heart out for a good while. I can hear the door opening behind me and steps leading out the house. Padfoot gets up and stumbles back a bit. He is exhausted, all cried out. He lowers his head on his legs and lays there motionless. It is then I realize his arms are cut and remember the blood from his belly. I push him over and turn him on his side. The glass isn’t deep, but there are many. I accio all the glass from his body, blood pooling around him. It is not spurting out of him, a blood replenisher and some essence of dittany and a pain reliever would most likely do the trick. I hover my ring hand over his belly and legs,“Episkey.” 

“Harriet!” I yell out. She rushes inside, she gasps at the blood, but she digs through that magic bag of hers. Probably has expansion charms on it. She pulls out a roll of bandages and digs deep again. This time she pulls out a small chest and opens it. I look at it and recognize a few potions. 

“Hand me the blood replenishing and the pain reliever. Those will do for now until I can make some dittany. Maybe there might be some in the potions lab under stasis. Not ideal, but it’ll do.” I grab the vials and open Padfoots mouth, he lets me. Harriet strokes the fur on the top of his head. Scratching just behind the ear. 

“Brave Padfoot, you always rush in to save the day. If I lose you again to your recklessness, I will find a way to use the resurrection stone to bring you back to life in a body and kill you over again! That’s a promise.” Harriet’s voice is sweet and gentle. She meant it to be a threat, but she is relieved he will be alright. 

“Reckless Gryffindork is right.” I say making light of the situation. Padfoot delivers a sobby chortle in his doggy way and even Harriet releases a wet chuckle. “Stay here. I’m going to see if there’s any dittany in the lab. I’ll be back. Harriet, as much as I want to explore the place, I don’t know if its safe for the kids. We’ll have them stay outside while we check the place. My mother made herself into a horcrux. I’m hoping that’s the only one.” 

She nods at me, reaching over to squeeze my shoulder in comfort, a warmth emits from her hands. She turns her attention back to Padfoot. His head is now in her lap and she is stroking the side of his face, trying not to touch the burn on his cheek. I stand and try to make my way to the potions lab, buy I kick a jar of something into the wall. Both Harriet and Padfoot look at the noise I made. I reach down to grab the jar and notice its properties. 

“Thanks Harriet, I didn’t see the dittany in there.” She looks at me confused. 

“It wasn’t. I know what dittany is. I’ve used it often enough to recognize it.” I consider her words and raise my ring hand- quickly surveying my surroundings. I realize Harri has her wand out. Padfoot tries to get up, but Harriet pushes him down. He complies and lies back down. 

“Someone’s here.” I give her a look for stating the obvious. 

“Hello?” I call out. “Is anyone here? We mean you no harm. I actually grew in this house. My brother and I did. We mean you no harm. We just want to know who’s with us.” 

A candle drops from one of the wall sconces. The flame burns out when it falls. 

“Look, we don’t want any trouble. We’ll leave after we grab a few things we own, you can have this place all to yourself, if that’s what you want.” Harriet tries. 

There is no answer. I look at the jar in my hands again. I open it and realize it is fresh. This particular recipe doesn’t take long to make. 

“We found the dittany. Thank you for that. My brother was hurt trying to save me, I appreciate the help. He deserves a little pain for some of the pranks he pulled when we were little, but after his life of pain, he should never be hurt again. So thank you.” There was a wave a warmth that washed through me. It was pleased for being helpful. 

“My name is Regulus. Should you ever need help, you have only to request it of me. I will do what I can. Thank you again.” I turn to Harriet, “come let’s get out of here. We can try to come back another time. I think we’ve had enough excitement for at least an hour.” I joke solemnly. Harriet nods and stands, gently moving Padfoot’s head off her lap and onto the floor. 

I accio a pillow from a couch  in the front room and transfigure it into a stretcher large enough to hold my brother. I spell it to be lightweight. I levitate the stretcher, standing near Padfoot’s head as Harriet stands by his hind. 

“Is Master Regulus going to leave Kreature forever, again?” Harriet and I both startle at the small voice coming from the kitchen entrance. 

“Kreature!” I yell running to the loyal house elf. I grab him up in a massive hug and twirl him around. He reaches for my face and holds both cheeks in the palms of his wrinkled elf hands. I hear a wolfy grumble behind me, sure that Padfoot is disgruntled seeing the house elf he so despised. 

“It really is you Master!” Kreature in a rare show of emotion starts to cry into my shirt. 

“Oh Kreature! I’m so glad you’re alive. Come my dear, small friend, we have much to speak of!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a heck of a time with this one. It did not want to be let out, I'm not 100%, just cause I know how long it was (22 google docs pages). I hope it wasn't all useless information and helped you see the story along. 
> 
> I did get some critiques in the last chapter and have tried to keep them in mind. I do hope those of you who had concerns are still with me and can see that: Yes, I hear you; and yes, I want to improve this story with every chapter. This is why I took a bit longer to post this chapter. So thank you, for your comments/concerns. I hope this chapter brings your faith in me back. 
> 
> The kudos are amazing, and very much humbling. Thanks for leaving them! Love you guys!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what my writing schedule will be like, but hopefully I can update this on a semi-regular basis. Constructive Criticism is welcome, but flames will most likely hurt my feelings, well not really, but please try to be professional about it. Thanks for reading!


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